Ties That Bind
by lostinmysticfalls
Summary: Bass and Charlie's first meeting is electric, rattling her to the core. He's a man of many secrets, but what Charlie doesn't know is that his darkest one involves her and she might not be prepared to face the truth.
1. Chapter 1: What Dreams are Made of

**A/N: The events in this story differ quite a bit from the ones in the series. There is no nano. No Connor or Emma. Nora and Jason are still alive. The Republic existed before the bombings that took place on the show but Monroe was never blamed for them. He never had a "fall from grace." He does end up rebuilding the Republic but does so in the midst of a brutal war with the Patriots. The history between Monroe and Miles is sketchy and that's what Charlie is trying to figure out.**

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Chapter 1: What Dreams Are Made Of

* * *

The dreams happened very often and when they didn't, Charlie always woke up the next day feeling a little disappointed. She went through her days as usual and would smile at the mention of his name or the sight of his face on a painting. She discovered these things were like a trigger to her clouded and busy mind and they almost always guaranteed a nightly visit from the famed stranger. Tonight was one of those nights.

_Her body arched towards him, the palm of his hands sliding over her breasts as he continued to move inside her. Charlie bit her lip, breathing heavily and reveling in the feel as he leaned over her body, his lips pressing softly over hers. They moved along her neck, the prickling sensation of his facial hair making her shiver. "I love you, Charlotte." He whispered in her ear._

_Charlie's only response was moaning as he quickened his pace. She held on to his shoulders, her fingernails digging into his muscles the harder he drove himself into her. Charlie knew she was close to finishing and she blurted out his name before bursting in elation, "Bass."_

Her heavy breathing and the satisfying ache between her legs woke her up. Charlie lied in bed motionless, her eyes wide as they searched the room. It had felt so real, she thought General Monroe was suddenly going to emerge from the darkness. She could feel the moisture buildup between her legs, realizing her dream had actually triggered an orgasm.

She closed her eyes, thinking of his face, his mesmerizing blue eyes, his lips, his hands. _Those goddamn hands_. The white sheet over her legs moved restlessly as she struggled to keep him out of her thoughts. Meanwhile, her heart continued sputtering like the incessant wings of a hummingbird.

Turning over on her side, she eyed the window, the hues of blue streamed through the slit in the curtains and formed long shadows on the bedroom walls. Her hand slowly moved over her arm, the sensation causing ripples of satisfaction that made her shiver. This was a whole new level when it came to dreaming about him.

Charlie watched as the curtains suddenly fluttered with the breeze that rushed from outside. She closed her eyes, picturing him once again. His body was covered in sweat, glistening with each movement, and she could almost feel the weight of his body on top of her. She licked her lips, thinking of so much more.

"What the hell is happening to me?" She muttered, opening her eyes and pushing herself up on the bed. Her head leaned against the headboard and she remained sleepless for a couple hours before settling back down again.

* * *

The early morning sight from the kitchen window was something she always looked forward to upon waking. The sun was shining over the hills, bathing in light the picturesque town she now called home. They'd resided there for almost three years, just her, Miles and Nora. More often than not Charlie felt like the third wheel. She'd never tell them but every few days she'd leave the house to hunt, fish, farm, whatever she could occupy herself with in order to give them enough time to take care of their own business. She was young and mostly inexperienced when it came to sex but she wasn't a complete ingenue.

It was September 21st—at least that's what the calendar hanging from the wall next to the firewood stove said. It was written by hand in fine black ink, a commodity that Miles had traded in town for crops towards the end of the previous year. Charlie didn't even know how accurate it was, especially since there had been days where they'd forgotten to mark off a date. For all she knew, Halloween had come and gone and everyone but them had known. She sighed, taking a sip of warm milk as she contemplated her day's duties.

"Going hunting today?" Nora's voice came from the doorway. Charlie smiled and nodded as she gulped down the last of her milk.

The lights of the house flickered, a common occurrence they were more than accustomed to by now. "Those scientists are still at it, I guess." Charlie mused.

The Monroe Republic had been busy trying to bring back the power ever since Sebastian Monroe had rebuilt what was left of his empire after the Patriot War. She'd heard the half-ass stories from Miles. Charlie never understood why her uncle was always so secretive when it came to their President. It was as if he held some kind of grudge against him but she knew better than to probe for more details. Miles wasn't one to concede once he had made up his mind about something. _Speaking of the devil_. Charlie thought as she heard her uncle come downstairs. His hair was still a mess and he was wiping the sleep out of his eyes as he walked into the kitchen.

"Isn't it way too early for all this yapping?" He joked, cracking a faint smile. He headed towards the stove and grabbed the leftover milk in the kettle.

Charlie rolled her eyes, giving him a playful shove before heading for the door. "I'm going hunting. See you guys in a few hours." She continued her pacing and then yelled from outside, "Don't expect me back before noon!" A giggle left her lips as she set off into the woods.

The secluded surroundings were always a welcomed changed to the otherwise busy market streets in town. Charlie enjoyed solitary strolls, listening to nothing but the chirping of the birds and the running water from the falls nearby. It gave her time to think of everything and nothing at the same time. Her family being one of the things that occupied her thoughts every now and then, even though she knew very little of them—another thing Miles wasn't very fond of talking about. All Charlie knew was that she'd lost them when she was very young—her father, mother, and younger brother Danny—in a car accident before the power went out. That was 18 years of a certain solitude she'd trade in for a single moment with them.

As her mind drifted in and out, something out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. She listened carefully for the scurrying of hoofs heading in the direction of the waterhole. Charlie smiled, hoping they'd be having deer for dinner that night. Her feet moved in a sleek manner, like the paws of a cat over the forest floor. She wasn't sure when she had gotten so good at hunting, but it was as if she'd been born with the ability to handle the crossbow. Nora called her a natural. Miles called it sheer luck.

She eyed the stunning creature from behind a tree. It was chewing on some foliage, unaware of the danger nearby. Charlie steadied her crossbow, aiming at the animal with precision. The snap of a twig caused it to snap its head up, eyes wide and ears perked in high alert. It was now or never.

"Boo!" She jumped, startled. The animal scurried away, deeper into the woods.

Charlie turned around to find Greyson Hughes grinning at her. He was tall and scrawny, with dark brown eyes and hair black like charcoal. They'd been friends for a while but she knew that deep down he harbored a deeper affection for her. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure that one out.

"You just cost me my dinner, jerk!" Charlie lamented, staring off into the spot where she'd last seen the deer.

"I would be more than happy to buy you dinner and make it up to you, Miss Matheson." He smiled again, like he was supposed to get a big prize for having scared away her prey and ruining her shot.

She grumbled under her breath, walking in the opposite direction. The boy continued to trail behind her, talking about his recent purchases in town and how his father was about to be promoted to some important position. Charlie was too busy to pay attention as she continued her search for the deer she had lost a few minutes earlier.

In the distance there was the faint sound of voices and she stopped, carefully perching her ear as if it somehow helped focus on it clearer. "Sh!" She put her finger up to her mouth, pointing with the other at the horses trotting a few yards away. "Look."

They hid behind a rock, and Charlie pulled out a pair of binoculars from her pouch, quietly observing the riders as they passed. The horses were big and strong, nothing compared to the ones Miles kept in the barn behind their house. You could tell these were well fed and cared for. The riders wore blue, the uniform of the militia, the small insignia imprinted on the upper sleeve confirmed her initial thought.

Her mouth dropped open when she saw him, her cheeks blushing as her memory became flooded with visions of the dreams she'd been having about him.

"That's General Monroe." Greyson muttered, "I wonder what brings him to these parts of town. It's not necessarily the loveliest of places." He glanced at Charlie, "No offense."

Charlie didn't respond, her eyes too captivated by the sight of the General commanding his men. He was just as marvelous as she'd imagined him and her stomach twirled with excitement as if she'd just witnessed a miraculous happening. His dirty blonde curls and the scruff on his face were inviting the sweetest of daydreams.

The President of the Republic was something of a myth and a legend—never really showing his face in public places, especially not in a small town like Willow Creek. Charlie had seen pictures of him in town, she'd heard tales of his heroism and tales of his monstrosity, it was hard to keep the facts straight. People liked to talk and the only person who seemed to know the truth about the infamous man—Miles—was never willing to share more than a nod or a scowl. Charlie was a bit enamored with the idea of who he could be rather than who he really was.

She loved hearing about the times his army defeated the Patriots. It was a great battle that had lasted months into the winter before ceasing in a victory for the founding father of the Republic. Not long after that, he had taken full control of the territory, this time having settled in Austin instead of the long-gone city of Philadelphia.

Charlie watched him from afar, wondering why this man she'd never met inspired such interest. He was magnetic in every way, and at the moment she kept wishing his piercing blue eyes were looking right at her and not at the men he was with.

"Would you like a bucket for that drool?" Greyson joked, a bit jealous of the attention General Monroe was receiving from the object of his affection.

She gave him a disgruntled look before returning her gaze to the man who'd been robbing her of sleep for the past few weeks. "It's not every day you get to see the President of the Republic in the flesh. Let me enjoy the moment and stop being such a dick." She grinned, thinking of her uncle's fondness for the word and how proud he'd be to hear her use it.

"You're right." His eyes narrowed in a contemplative manner before proceeding. "Hey, Charlie."

General Monroe and his men continued moving, disappearing behind the trees, much to Charlie's disappointment. She finally brought her attention back to her friend. "What?"

He cleared his throat, making Charlie nervous for the words that might be leaving his mouth any second. She hoped and prayed he wasn't about to declare his undying love for her. No matter how many times she'd told herself she'd let him down easy, now was not the best time for that.

"What if I told you, you could see General Monroe in a more private capacity?" He smiled, a little too happy for someone who just a few minutes ago had felt threatened. Charlie knew there had to be some kind of catch.

She raised an eyebrow. "Are you fucking with me?" Her hands clasped to her hips, taking a daring stance. "Explain."

"I told you my dad was getting a promotion." He began, "Turns out Lieutenant Hughes will be joining the ranks of the elite come tomorrow night."

Charlie smiled, "They're making him Captain?"

"Yes." He replied. "There's a big shindig in Austin and it's all taking place at the General's estate." He danced around the subject for a little longer. "You can get a glance at your idol again. All you have to do is be my date to the event."

She chuckled, "First off, he's not my idol. He's just a very intriguing man, as anyone in a position of power usually is. Second off, I knew there was a catch, you sneaky weasel."

"Come on! It'll be fun!" He laughed. "You can't tell me you're not even a little tempted."

Charlie sighed, tempted was an understatement. And after having seen General Monroe himself just a few minutes prior, her interest in him had peaked to new heights. She bit her lip. "Only if it's a friends date kind of thing."

He huffed in frustration. "Charlie–"

"Greyson." She looked at him, feeling a bit sorry for him. "You know how it is between us. We're friends, right?"

His downcast eyes were hard to conceal but he tried his damn hardest. "Right."

She smiled wide. "Great! Then see you tomorrow!"

* * *

After they'd had dinner and settled down to read—a habit they'd all developed, since there was very few things to do to keep each other entertained when the evenings rolled around—Charlie decided to bring up Greyson's proposal from earlier that day. The reception was less than stellar.

"I said no, Charlie!" Miles's face was turning red. It was obvious she had hit a major nerve when bringing up the invitation to the Republic's important ceremony.

She gave sad puppy eyes to Nora, hoping that maybe she could stick up for her and try to convince her uncle to change his mind. _Come on Nora, I left you alone so you could get laid this morning_. It was no use, she shook her head, agreeing with Miles's stupid decision.

"What is so wrong with me going to this party?" Charlie countered, "You think you'd be happy to have some sort of friendship with someone so close to our commanding leader."

Miles held back a laugh. "Our commanding leader..." He mumbled. "If you think I'm going to let you take part in the kind of debauchery that goes on behind closed doors in the Republic, you're an idiot."

Charlie growled, discontent with his stubbornness. "And how do you know about what goes on in the Republic if you're always holed up in here like a hermit?" She plopped herself on the couch, watching as specks of dust floated up in the air. "I'm 23 years old, Miles. I'm not a kid anymore."

Nora remained silent, teetering from one foot to another as she crossed and uncrossed her arms from time to time. She was Charlie's friend and confidant but seemed to always be rendered helpless when Miles had any say in the matter. And come to think of it, these matters always had to do with one Sebastian Monroe.

"Why do you hate him so much, anyway?" Charlie asked.

Miles clenched his jaw, running a hand through his hair as if he'd had enough of the conversation. "I don't hate him, Charlie." He struggled to explain his reasoning. "I just don't want you near him. He's not the person you think he is."

Charlie perked up in attention. "How so?"

"You having to ask is reason enough for me not to delve into the subject." His cryptic reply only infuriated her but she kept a calm demeanor, opting for a different approach.

She took a deep breath, pretending to mull over his words and come to her senses. "I don't agree with your decision. But I trust you, Miles." The look of relief in his eyes told her she was playing her cards correctly. "There's no one else in this world I trust more than you." Charlie came to her feet, taking small steps towards the stairs. "I don't know why you're so apprehensive when it comes to General Monroe but I do know that all you've ever wanted was to keep me safe."

"Kid, you know I do this for your own good." He smiled, "Trust me, there will be other opportunities for you to do something similar."

It was all bullshit. What could possibly make those other times different than that one? Charlie was certain he was only saying it to appease her. She nodded and smiled, playing along. "I'm going to bed." She gave each of them a hug, buttering them up further couldn't hurt. "Good night."

* * *

The dream that night was different. He was standing right in front of her, the militia uniform finely pressed on his body and his face patched with dirt—a scratch on his cheek and one above his eyebrow. His hair moved freely with the breeze and his fingertips caressed her cheek as the corner of his mouth lifted into a half smile. It was devilish and disarming, and Charlie felt it in her core. She wanted to speak but it was as if she was a mute, only enjoying the touch of his fingers and breathing in his scent.

She knew that she was dreaming but managed to keep herself from waking up and opening her eyes, at least for a few more minutes. "Hello, Charlotte." He said, smiling wider. The sound of his voice was melancholic. His lips got closer, diminishing the distance between them and sparking her cravings. Charlie closed her eyes, waiting for a kiss that never came. One moment he was standing right in front of her and the next he was gone, vanishing like a ghost and leaving her in a stupor.

She fluttered her eyes open to the darkness of the room, feeling like she'd been wide awake, except she knew she had been dreaming. Charlie instinctively touched her cheek and smiled. Sebastian Monroe already had some kind of hold on her and they had yet to even properly meet.

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**If you guys have a moment, please leave me a quick review. I'd love know what you think! xoxo**


	2. Chapter 2: President of the Republic

**Thank you for your wonderful reviews. It's a great feeling knowing others are enjoying your little story. You guys are awesome!**

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**Chapter 2: President of the Republic**

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"I'll meet you there." Charlie whispered from behind the door, turning around to make sure Miles and Nora weren't nearby.

Greyson looked at her baffled. His plan had been to pick her up and arrive at the party with her by his side. She was his date after all. "Is something wrong?"

She shook her head a bit exasperated. Charlie just wanted him to get out of there already. The more time they wasted, the higher the likelihood of her plan getting ruined. "I just have a few things to do before then but I promise I will be there."

He looked down at the ground, disappointed. "Fine." With a foot between the crack of the door, he leaned a bit closer. "I'll see you there, Charlie." And she closed the door on him without saying another word.

The afternoon hours dissipated, Miles and Nora went on with their day as if the discussion with Charlie the previous night had never taken place. She was on the porch, watching the sun disappear behind the hills as she gathered up her fishing equipment. It was the only way she'd get out of the house without arising too much suspicion. A few minutes later, Miles came up behind her, a glass of whiskey in his hand. He leaned over the railing and stared right into the setting sun, its red incandescent light burning away into the horizon.

"It's been a while since you've done any night fishing." Miles mentioned, taking a sip of his drink.

There was the possibility of him asking to tag along, but after witnessing his and Nora's flirty banter at the dinner table earlier, she knew his priorities were elsewhere. Normally these kind of thoughts made Charlie uncomfortable, but at the moment they seemed like a true blessing. She knew her uncle would be too busy to care about what she was doing with her own time.

"I've been feeling a bit on edge lately. Fishing helps me relax." Charlie smiled and grabbed the fishing pole that had been leaning against the door frame. "It's nice to have some alone time every once in a while." She winked at him.

Miles laughed, tipping his glass towards her and then downing the rest. "Don't come back too late. You might be 23 years old but you're still my responsibility."

Charlie smiled wide. "See ya later, Miles." She turned as she continued to walk, "But don't stay up, you know the best fish are caught later in the night!"

* * *

After pretending to walk straight into the woods, she deviated, going out of her way to round the house and sneak into the barn for one of the horses. Austin wasn't in close proximity and if she walked, she wouldn't make it there until the early morning hours.

She galloped across town and into the darkened land. The moon was waning, making the lighting particularly dim that night. As she crossed a marshy patch, an old wooden shed caught her eye. It was small, barely big enough for one person to live in. She knew her time was limited but something about it made her stop and take a break. It was as almost as if it was calling to her.

The horse remained tied to a tree as she creaked the door open. The interior was just as she imagined, small, dusty, and nearly empty. In the corner there was a large blue comforter and a pillow. Charlie figured it was being used as someone's nesting spot. Suddenly the curiosity that had brought her inside turned to fear, fear that she could be invading someone's personal haven.

She pressed her mouth into a straight line and glanced around one more time before deciding to leave. At the most, she'd probably lost ten minutes, nothing she couldn't make up by riding a little faster than usual.

As she crossed the imaginary border into Austin, every inch of her body began humming with anticipation. It was just now dawning on her that she was headed right into the home of the man who'd become almost an unhealthy fixation.

The streets were busy with people and patrolled by Militia men on horseback. She rode past them without making eye contact, hoping they wouldn't care enough to stop and question her.

From afar, she could see the procession of lights, like fireflies making their way into a gated home at the end of the long stretch of road. She could see people inside. There were so many lit torches, the place almost looked artificially lit. Perhaps most surprising was the fact that General Monroe hadn't pushed for electricity on that particular night.

"Something I can help you with, Miss?" A uniformed man on horseback came up next to her. He was guarding the gated entrance to the residence.

Charlie smiled, "I'm here with a friend. His name's Greyson Hughes. His dad's–"

"Hughes's kid?" He narrowed his eyes, giving her a quick inspection from head to toe. "Didn't he tell you this was a black tie event?"

Her heart felt like it had sunk deep down into her stomach. She'd ridden all the way to Austin and her chances of getting inside that party were slowly vanishing before her eyes.

"He did–"

"Charlie!" Greyson called out to her from inside the gates to the estate.

She smiled wide, never had she been more happy to see him. "I told you I'd be here!"

The Militia man grunted before ordering him to open the gate. It was cracked just enough to allow her passage. "Go ahead but if General Monroe deems you inappropriately dressed, you never talked to me and I never let you in."

Charlie nodded and hopped off her horse to greet Greyson.

"At least you bathed." He teased, giving her a tight hug.

It became clear to her exactly how under-dressed she was when she set foot inside the enormous house. The tables were set with the finest linens on top of which sat towering pillars of candles. Oil lamps hung from above, lining the perimeter and cascading soft light over the attendants. It was like something out of a fairytale. Most of the men there were dressed in Militia uniforms with the exception of their guests, who all wore plain black suits and ties.

The women were sophisticated in appearance, their hair styled as best as possible—as best as a non-electrical world could allow them—and their dresses, those were a dream. Charlie could never even begin to aspire to own one of those. She suddenly felt like the pink elephant in the room, taking part in a celebration that was obviously reserved for the affluent people of Austin.

Greyson walked her through the floor as they picked at food from the various platters at the table and poured each other drinks. She tried not to notice the constant stares from those in attendance as she walked past them. They probably wondered how she'd managed to trespass without security stepping in.

"This is ridiculous." She muttered, staring at the decor.

He chuckled, "This is what Sebastian Monroe stands for..."

Charlie rolled her eyes, leave it to Greyson to be passive aggressive. "Don't get me wrong. It's beautiful in every way but ridiculously unbelievable." She said, taking a bite of fresh bread. She pointed at the men playing in the corner. "He even has an orchestra playing live music. Who would've thought those instruments were still in existence."

She continued munching on food, earning a contemptuous glance from one of the girls at the table. Her dress was gorgeous, lavender like the flowers that grew in the meadows back home, and flowing down her form like a waterfall. Charlie lifted an eyebrow but the girl became too distracted by what was happening at the other side of the giant ballroom to notice.

"What's going on over there?" Charlie asked Greyson, walking off into the maddening sounds before he had a chance to answer.

There he was, Sebastian Monroe, the President of the Republic, standing in the center of a bubbling circle of effervescent admirers. He nodded and shook hands, spoke a few words before moving on to another person. The reactions of his followers were amusing. It was as if they'd just witnessed the second coming of Christ. Charlie chuckled under her breath at the comparison. But she couldn't deny that she was equally enthralled by his presence just a few feet away from her.

She stared at him from behind a tall, heavy-set man, peeking over his shoulder to get a better look at the commanding General. Everything about him exuded both great respect and a paralyzing fear. His handsome features were even more striking the closer Charlie got. She'd become so lost in thought that she failed to notice the exact moment when their eyes met.

His smile slowly faded, flush lips parting slightly at the sight of her. His eyes were wild with curiosity and interest. General Monroe was looking at her as if she was the only one in the room. Charlie was motionless, staring back with the same intensity and completely absorbed by his energy. She'd never had a man look at her that way, like she was a woman and not some naive little farm girl.

Charlie wasn't afraid, on the contrary, it was a feeling she'd very seldom experienced—if at all. Her body was telling her to run, not away but to him and she felt like her tongue held a million words that no matter how hard she tried, she could not bring herself to say.

Greyson grabbed her arm, "We have to go. He's probably gonna have us both kicked out now that he's seen you. I'd like to save myself the embarrassment."

Charlie looked away for the first time. "What?"

"Come on, Charlie!" He pulled her away, dragging her through the mingling crowd.

She could see they were headed towards the door. "No." Her arm freed itself from his grasp. "There's so many people here. Why can't we stay a little longer?" Her voice took a sweeter tone. "If we do get kicked out, then fine. But until then, let's make the trip worthwhile."

He gave her a wary look but her smile was enough to convince him to let them stay.

* * *

Charlie spent most of the evening pretending like she wasn't searching for the General every time she scanned the room. The connection between them had been jolting, she was like a junky getting a fix after a long period of withdrawal.

Greyson continued to delight her with stories about the Republic. It was a welcomed changed to the mute replies she'd usually receive from Miles and Nora. After everything she'd learned, she couldn't figure out why their secrecy when it came to General Monroe.

"Who are they?" Charlie asked, gesturing to the couple who had taken center stage in the ball room. The woman laughed at everything her partner said. They both looked incredibly happy and Charlie realized that maybe she was a tad bit jealous of their joy and shared love.

Greyson began to explain, "That's Aaron and Priscilla Pittman. They're the two head researchers that have been helping the Republic with their efforts to end the blackout."

Charlie's mouth hung open in awe. "Aaron and Priscilla..." She muttered. Saying the names out loud only made them sound more familiar to her. "I've seen them before, in town, I think."

He smiled. "They've had quite a few appearances to talk about their endeavors and rally more supporters. They're practically the celebrities of our time."

She eyed them in silence for a few moments. Aaron Pittman looked her way, as if sensing she was looking at him. His smile slowly vanished but she broke eye contact as soon as she realized he was looking at her.

The music ended abruptly and the chatter around them began to die down. Everyone's attention was drawn to the person at the top of the stairs. He was dressed in a Militia uniform but the jacket he wore depicted a higher rank than some of the militants on the floor. The man, tall and with dirty blond hair, introduced himself as Major Jeremy Baker.

"That's Monroe's right-hand man." Greyson whispered.

Baker cracked a few jokes, some that Charlie would've probably understood had she been more informed of the happenings in the Republic. The guests ate up the speech as they sipped on sparkling wine.

One by one, the men receiving new medals and honors were called up onto the staircase, the higher up they climbed, the higher their new rank. General Monroe joined them, shaking their hand and thanking them for their service and loyalty. Greyson watched with pride as his father's name was announced. On his chest, right above his heart, Monroe pinned the emblem of the Republic and hanging from it was a ribbon, striped with the colors of the Militia.

If the room had been quiet before, it was now dead silent, as Monroe prepared to speak. He cleared his throat and then gave a welcoming nod to everyone present. The smile on his lips had a sense of pride, a little too much for Charlie's taste.

"He loves knowing everyone's here for him, doesn't he?" She asked quietly.

Greyson smirked, happy to see Charlie beginning to slip from the spell Monroe had her under. "I would answer that question but I'll let you witness it first hand instead. He'll probably answer it for me."

The speech had reached its end. Everyone clapped for the men being promoted and the cheering lasted as they each made their way down the stairs. Charlie was sure her question would go unanswered, seeing as the ceremony had already come to a close. Greyson and Charlie walked a little closer to the front, making sure Monroe was preoccupied enough not to pay attention to them. But Sebastian Monroe hadn't gotten to be President of the Republic by being dimwitted. He had been keeping a close eye on the boy and the Matheson girl since he first caught sight of them. In reality, they'd been the ones who were being cautiously observed.

The crowd began moving in unison toward another section of the house. "What's going on?" Charlie asked.

"You're about to find out. Come on, you're going to love this." The sarcasm in Greyson's voice was palpable.

They hung by the entrance of the small hall, shielding themselves with the people in front of them. A row of seven girls walked past them, each more voluptuous than the next. Charlie recognized the one in the lavender dress. She'd given her that nasty look earlier by the food table. Their dresses were exuberant, although some were just borderline trashy. Charlie perched an eyebrow, seeing the General's face light up as the girls stood before him. They smiled and carefully wiped their hair to the side, adjusting their dresses and silently flirting with him.

"What is this?" Charlie said, but Greyson only grinned.

Major Baker joined them, introducing each of the girls by name. The people clapped and men whistled. Some girls were obviously receiving more praise than others. Baker spoked, "So, who's going to be the lucky lady this evening?" The crowd went wild.

Charlie looked at her friend, not wanting to believe what she was seeing. "What does he mean by that?" She was afraid she wouldn't like the answer.

"He holds contests." He muttered, "The girl who gets the most applause by the guests, gets the honor of joining him to his next big event. Among other things."

"Other things?" Charlie thought back to Miles's warning about debauchery in the Republic. Her mind began depicting the most graphic images of sex and depravity at the hands of the General.

Greyson laughed, "A man's got needs, Charlie, and he's definitely no exception."

She wrinkled her nose in disgust. "And they're okay with being treated like that?"

He shrugged, "They see nothing wrong with it. Besides, attending a function with him is probably the closest they'll ever get to being like royalty."

"Well, I find the whole concept revolting." She replied.

"That's because you're not like them, Charlie." Greyson said. "Frankly, I'm glad your fascination with Monroe has a limit."

Charlie rolled her eyes. She glanced back at the girls and then at Monroe. He was definitely enjoying the attention of those around him. The smile on his face was arrogant, he was so full of himself. She could see it now. Something inside Charlie snapped, the pedestal in which she'd placed him was slowly crumbling to pieces. He seemed no different than other men she'd encountered, the only thing that really set them apart was that he had an audience for this type of behavior.

"What do you think of President Monroe now? Still as admirable as before?" Greyson said.

She looked at him with dagger eyes. "Yeah, rub it in, why don't you."

"Sorry Charlie. I know he's our leader and as such deserves respect, but you have to admit he's kind of a douche bag." Charlie nodded a little. "I've heard rumors he wasn't always like this." He pursed his lips.

She looked at him with wonder as she listened. "Apparently he hasn't been the same since he lost the only woman he ever loved. Some say she was carrying his child when she was killed. There are those who say it happened before the blackout, others say it happened after. No one really knows."

"Hmm." Charlie thought, sympathizing with him for a moment.

"But don't get your hopes up. I'm convinced it's all made-up fantasies by all these women in order to justify his actions. I think the stories are all bullshit." He gestured towards Monroe. "Look at him. Does he look like a guy who knows what love is?"

Charlie watched as he twirled each girl, flashing them a devilish smile and licking his lips in a teasing manner. If she'd ever seen a womanizer in action, Sebastian Monroe was it.

"Once more, people. Come on! Third time's a charm!" Baker said. He signaled to each girl, giving the crowd enough time to clap and holler before moving on to the next in line.

The winner was either the third or fourth girl in the lineup, Charlie wasn't exactly sure. The only thing she knew was that the girl in the lavender dress was out of luck—or maybe she was one of the lucky ones? The third girl was blonde, the fourth a brunette. Whichever was the winner, Monroe was probably guaranteed a good time. Charlie's stomach clenched, feeling a little sick.

The General smiled wide, earning some sighs from the girls vying for his attention. He put up his hand, calming down the crowd and silencing them. "I know this is usually decided by popular vote," he said with that commanding voice, "But I was thinking of doing things a little differently tonight."

Baker chimed in, "Hand-picked by the General himself. That makes it that much more special, doesn't it?" The girls giggled. "So, who's going to be the lucky lady, Mr. President?"

Charlie was ready to leave, she'd had enough of this circus. "You win." She told Greyson. "He is a douche bag. Let's go find your dad and go home."

The boy's attention was divided. He listened to her words but his eyes were directed toward the front of the room. "Charlie..." He muttered.

She looked to see what was holding him up.

"I want her." Monroe said, pointing at Charlie. His eyes were piercing and hauntingly beautiful, and Charlie felt herself depleted of oxygen as she stared back.

* * *

**Please leave me a quick comment if you have a minute. Thanks so much for reading. xoxo**


	3. Chapter 3: If The Answer Is No

**What better way to celebrate Presidents Day (US, obvs) than with President Monroe? Am I right? Thanks for the reviews! Hope you all enjoy this chapter.**

* * *

**Chapter 3: If The Answer Is No, Can I Change Your Mind?**

* * *

All eyes were on her—the girl who'd until just a few minutes ago had been but an uninvited guest, dusty jeans and leather jacket a sharp contrast to the novelty suits and gowns around her. Charlie looked like a deer in headlights as her fingers ran through her wavy blonde hair. Her lip quivered, her eyes shifting between guests until they finally settled on him again. A half smile adorned his face and he gently titled his head as if beckoning to her.

"What? Me?" She noticed the angry glances from the girls next to him. Monroe didn't seem to be aware of the outrage his words had caused. And even if he was, Charlie had a feeling he wouldn't have cared in the least.

Baker walked towards her, taking her by the hand and bringing her up to the front—because apparently she wasn't garnering enough attention in the back of the room. Charlie looked back at Greyson as he stayed behind. He didn't move a muscle and didn't appear to have any desire to do so. He knew that in the Republic, you had to follow the rules or suffer the consequences. And being the son of the newly appointed Captain surely wasn't helping the situation.

Charlie was standing in front of the General now, he was taller than she'd initially thought. She figured he was close to six feet, which was a considerable advantage to her smaller frame. He leaned towards her a little, inspecting her face with his fingers as if he'd just found a new relic that needed to undergo restoration. Dirt from her face remained on his fingertips and he meshed the dust together with his thumb.

The girls to each side of him looked at her in disbelief, jealous looks and eye rolls abounded. Charlie could see why she was receiving such a reaction. They were all dressed like pageant queens, red lipstick and thick eye makeup on top of caked on porcelain skin. In comparison, she could pass for a beggar like the ones found in practically every corner of town.

She grumbled under her breath. "You must be mistaken. I just came to see my friend's–"

He put a hand up, cutting her off, and smiling at her in a sly and conniving way. Leaning into her closer, he whispered in her ear. "Come on, Charlotte. Are you really going to turn me down in front of all my guests?"

General Monroe knew her name. She felt a blow straight to her core, shivers running down her spine. Her stomach flipped, constricting with overwhelming anxiety. She had so many questions but her tongue had become useless and numb. She glanced back at her friend who was still standing by the entrance of the hall. Greyson looked at her apologetically, knowing she was in this mess because he'd invited her there. Such was his discomfort that he could only hold her gaze for a few seconds before looking away.

The shock of being in his presence had rendered Charlie deaf to the chatter going on around the room. Nobody could believe that Monroe had chosen her over the other young women who had only come to the festivities for that purpose. Monroe however, stood tall, chest pumped and with a look of complete superiority as he began to speak.

"Ladies, thank you for your participation. You all look stunning tonight." He shot Charlie a glance at the delivery of the compliment, making her fidget nervously as a response.

The girls left the room, soon followed by the rest of the crowd who began dispersing back into the giant ballroom. Monroe became occupied with a couple of well-dressed men as they made their way out. Charlie recognized the younger one as the leader of the California Commonwealth, President Affleck. In between whispers she heard them mention a dinner in Dallas that was coming up in the next few weeks.

Baker stood next to Charlie like her shadow, or an unwanted gnat that just wouldn't leave her alone no matter how many times she tried to shoo him away. "He's going to be busy for a few minutes but don't go anywhere, he'll want to have a word with you before you depart."

He didn't look very pleased to be talking to her, on the contrary, there was a hint of irritation to his voice. Charlie began feeling some sympathy, it seemed as though he was also there not entirely of his own free will.

"I never said yes to him. Why should I stay?" She countered, feeling braver speaking to his second-in-command instead of Monroe.

Baker chuckled, "Aren't you a little spitfire. The General will like that."

"Really?" She asked mockingly.

"Really." He responded. "He's always had a weakness for beautiful women with razor-sharp tongues, like you."

Charlie gave him a menacing look. "Tell him I said no to his _invitation_. The other girls are still around, have him pick one of them instead." She had no idea where her courage had come from but something told her Jeremy Baker wouldn't dare use force to stop her.

"There's a reason he chose you. And even though I wish I could tell you what that reason is, it's not my place to speak about it." He replied, "You know that an order from the President is an order of the highest authority. It's in your best interest not to disobey." He smiled and then quickly walked past her, leaving her stupefied.

* * *

Charlie walked around the busy ballroom looking for Greyson. He'd disappeared soon after everyone had been dismissed from the contest hall. The talk with Baker had distracted her enough to lose track of him and now he was nowhere to be found. The minutes passed and without any sign of him, countless thoughts invaded her head. Some filled her with dread and she tried to push them away as products of her overactive imagination. _There was no way Greyson could have gotten in trouble because of her, right?_

"Are you looking for the General?" A pitchy voice came from behind her. Charlie turned to find a thin girl with unruly blonde hair staring at her. She had big hazel eyes and fair, radiant skin. She couldn't have been older than eighteen.

She shook her head. "I was actually looking for my friend."

The girl smiled. "Are you excited about winning the contest?" It was her way of making small chat and she was so sweet and bubbly, Charlie found it impossible to be rude.

Charlie's heart began thumping faster at the thought. "I wasn't even a participant, I'm still trying to figure out how and why I won." She faked a nervous laugh.

She got a once-over from the girl—not that it was anything new for her that night. It was obvious she was wondering the same exact thing. "You're very pretty." Her compliment was unconvincing. "I'm sure you'd look amazing were it not for your untidy clothes." She grinned like a child who was aware she'd just said the wrong thing.

_Untidy_. Charlie had a feeling there were other words she wanted to use to describe her appearance, at least she was trying to be nice, unlike the other girls. She chuckled, patting down her jacket. "Maybe this will be enough to make President Monroe think twice."

The girl's eyes widened, making her already large eyes even bigger. "You don't want to go on a date with him? Are you kidding?" She was truly appalled by Charlie's refusal to accompany Monroe to one of his Republic functions. "I've heard he's quite the charmer."

Charlie smiled, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah, I bet he is."

The girl got closer, like she was getting ready to divulge the juiciest of secrets. "I've also heard he's _amazing_ in bed."

Charlie coughed, choking on virtually nothing but her own spit. She looked around the room for a server with a drink platter. As soon as she spotted one walking towards them, she quickly grabbed a glass of wine and brought it up to her lips. The girl laugh when she noticed her flustered state.

"And I'm sure you've figured this much but he's not the settling down type." She twisted her mouth in disappointment. "But girls like to talk and they say he's really good at what he does with, you know, _everything_." She murmured, "I've also heard he's very well-endowed." There was a grin on her face as she nodded.

She was basically telling Charlie, _Congrats! You have won the ultimate prize!_ More or less.

Charlie continued sipping her wine, trying not to imagine herself in that situation. But her constant dreams were now resurfacing again and they were making it impossible to focus on anything else. _He's a womanizer, Charlie... he just wants you for one thing_. Her inner voice chanted as her mind continued flashing scenes from her dreams as if it were a movie. _A dirty, shameful movie._

The girl was staring at her with eyebrows raised. "Is that a yes?" She looked confused, puckering up her shiny, pink lips.

"Huh?" Charlie asked. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"I said, is this your first time in the Republic?" She shook her head and giggled. Charlie had become her amusement, apparently.

Charlie nodded, "First time and probably the last."

"Well, if you don't want to go on a date with President Monroe, I'd be happy to take your place. Just make sure you put in a good word for me." She grabbed a piece of bread from the table, "My name's Isabelle, by the way." Her chipper attitude was likable.

"Charlie." She replied with a smile. There was something familiar about the girl. Charlie felt like she'd seen her before but instead of opening a new can of worms, she chose to keep her thoughts to herself. "Sorry to cut this short but like I said, I'm looking for my friend. It was nice to meet you, Isabelle."

The girl smiled, waving at Charlie as she headed outside.

* * *

"As if I needed any more reasons to think about him." Charlie muttered to herself as she stepped into the empty garden.

The cool air swirling about was refreshing. Her head was still reeling from the night's events—Monroe's irresistible stare, picking her in front of the gathered crowd, his voice as he whispered her name. A name that no other person ever used for her, not even her closest relatives. And now this Isabelle girl had polluted her mind with thoughts of how good of a lover he was supposed to be.

She sighed, taking a seat on the steps and resting her forehead over her folded arms. She was staring right at the ground when she heard the footsteps. "Greyson, you son of a bitch, where have you been?"

There was a snicker. "Such a foul mouth for such a pretty lady." He replied, his voice sending ripples through her veins. "Not necessarily a bad thing, however."

Charlie's head snapped up in an instant, looking up at Monroe's divine form as he took a seat next to her on the steps. Her body seemed to move closer the farther she wanted to get, like gravity pulling her into his orbit. Her heart began beating at a faster speed and her cheeks became flushed.

"Jeremy told me that you're not very happy with my decision." He rubbed his stubble with his hand and licked his lips before continuing. "Is there anything I can do to change your mind?"

_Yeah, how about you tell me your true motives?_ Charlie looked at him for a second before looking away, afraid that if she stared for too long her words would sound senseless and she would melt into a puddle of goo. "How do you know my name?"

"I know a lot of things, Charlotte." He tilted his head in an endearing way, fueling a fire deep in her belly and making her chest tighten.

"Nobody calls me that." She replied, trying to evade his eyes as much as possible. "Tell me how you know my name and maybe," she paused, her heart beating faster, "_Maybe_ I'll reconsider."

Monroe chuckled. He could count in one hand the number of instances in which a girl was this difficult to win over and coming from Charlie, it filled him with great excitement. "Your uncle's never talked to you about me before?"

Charlie met his gaze. "You know Miles?"

"Know him? Charlie, we go way back." His answer was shielded as if there was more he wanted to tell her. "Frankly, I'm surprised Miles kept that from you. I guess he was serious when he said he wanted to sever all ties between us." Charlie could tell his relationship with Miles was deep rooted and from the sound of his voice, it was also tainted by a painful history.

"Miles never wants to talk about you or the Republic. I get the sense he doesn't like you very much." She raised a questioning eyebrow, waiting for him to deny or confirm her statement.

The smirk on Monroe's face wasn't very telling. "It's a lot more complicated than that." His fingers touched the top of her hand. His weather-beaten fingertips sent a surge of energy up her arm, making the tiny hairs on her extremities stand straight up. Luckily, the sleeves of her jacket covered the induced goosebumps that appeared as a result.

"Well, knowing Miles doesn't quite explain how you know me. Especially since you said you haven't seen each other in a long time."

"I never said that. I only said we go way back." He grinned.

His refusal to share any more information only peaked her interest further. "If that's the case, then why haven't I seen you around?"

Monroe looked away for a second, rethinking his words before speaking. "Does this mean you're reconsidering?" He teased, a heart-melting smile plastered on his face.

Charlie shook her head, unable to resist his charm. "Will you tell me more about your ties to my uncle if I say yes?"

The smile reached his eyes, lines appearing at the corners. "One step at a time, Charlotte. First I need to know if you will accompanying me to my next event. It's a very important dinner in Dallas."

He moved his knee, jerking it and hitting hers in the process. She enjoyed the feeling, even though it only lasted a couple seconds at most. Being near him was like feeding off pure, unadulterated energy. The whole scenario was surreal, something only her dream induced brain could conjure up.

She looked at him, really studied him closely. Her eyes swept over his strong jawline, his finely trimmed beard, rosy lips and the round tip of his nose. It was a little red, perhaps due to the cold air outside. His blue eyes were soft, unlike the commanding pose he'd shown earlier in the night. He was simply a man, flesh and bone just like her. But she knew that he harbored secrets she probably couldn't even begin to fathom.

The corner of her lip moved, an impending smile beginning to form as she locked her gaze on him. Her reply was either going to enlighten her further or ruin her entirely. Charlie wasn't sure if she was prepared for it but she said it anyway.

"Okay."

His eyebrows arched, marking his forehead lines. His lips moved and slightly opened, only allowing for the passage of air but not words.

Charlie smiled sheepishly. "I'll go to Dallas with you." Her head was already thinking of excuses she could tell Miles.

Monroe winked at her, positioning his hand palm up until she placed her hand on top of his. He wrapped his fingers around it and came to his feet. "I'll tell you one thing about Miles. He deserves happiness after everything he's been through. I've seen him down and broken. And it's not a pretty picture."

He guided Charlie towards the house, promptly reaching the entrance back to the ballroom.

"Wait." She said, hesitating and pulling back. "What happened to him?"

Monroe's eyes looked on in the distance. "Battles sometimes leave wounds that never heal." His answer was somber. "But you don't have to worry about that. He loves you. He loves Nora. And everything he's ever done was to protect you." He laughed, "Even all the shit talking I'm sure he's done behind my back. What a dick."

Charlie's mouth dropped open but before she could say anything he interjected. "That's enough for tonight. I said I would only tell you one thing and I've already told you more than that."

She shook her head. "That's not fair. It's not even actual information, you're just telling me your opinions about him. I want to know how you know him, where you met, what the history is between you, why he doesn't talk about you–"

"In due time, Charlie." He said her nickname as if he'd known it all along. It was sweet and melodic, and made her heart skip a beat. "Think of yourself as a baby deer. You have to learn to walk before you run."

A disgruntled noise escaped her throat as he brought her inside. The party was still roaring and the guests were now more intoxicated than when she'd arrived. She scanned the room quickly but still no sign of Greyson.

Monroe beamed at her, pulling her to the dance floor. The people around them parted, opening in a circular fashion in order to clear room for them. "I didn't tell you it was customary to dance with the chosen girl of the night?"

This only reminded her of how this had all started. She rolled her eyes and reluctantly placed her hand on his shoulder, allowing him to rest his on her waist. In one swift motion, he pulled her in closer, the swells of her breasts coming in contact with his hard chest. Fingers traced gently against her side, making her heart beat erratically.

The guests around her disappeared from her line of sight, she wasn't paying attention anymore. Concentrating instead on keeping calm, she locked her eyes on the movement of their feet. The back and forth of their steps was like a wave, incoming and outgoing, closing in and separating. It was also like the kind of game he was playing with her. Drawing her in by telling her things about Miles, only to push her away again by not really saying much at all.

She'd only been part of it for a few minutes and already she had grown tired of his antics. "Can we stop dancing now?"

He looked at her puzzled. "Why? Am I doing something wrong?"

Charlie shook her head. "I'm just not dressed for the occasion and I feel completely ridiculous and out of place." It was the best excuse she had.

Monroe slowed down his beat. "We can find you a dress somewhere, I'm sure. Will that make you feel better?"

Something about the question ticked her off. "Are you offering me a dress that belonged to one of the many women who've had the _pleasure_ of your company?" There was venom in her words. "You're unbelievable," she muttered.

They'd only interacted for an hour at most and she was already acting like she had some kind of claim on him. She knew it was wrong but then she thought of how lucky he was she wasn't telling him exactly what was on her mind. Monroe on the other hand, was taken aback by how quickly her mood had changed but found it amusing nonetheless.

"That's what you do, right?" Her voice was low. "President of the Republic. No rules apply. Different girl every night?" The words cut like razors. "Is it because even with all these people and all the power you have over them, you're still lonely?"

His demeanor was serious. "You don't know me, Charlotte." He pursed his lips. "You don't have the slightest idea of who I am."

"And I don't believe I'll ever find out." She added. "Or am I wrong?"

Their movements were minute and graceful, he leaned into her ear, lips brushing against her skin. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything."

He shook his head. "I already told you how that works."

She was growing even more impatient. "Are you ever going to tell me the full story or are you just planning to string me along?"

Monroe nodded. "You'll know the full story." He twirled her around and then brought her back into him, their bodies slamming together. "When you're ready."

_How would he know when she was ready? What even constituted being ready?_ There were so many questions floating in Charlie's head and neither of them would be answered for the time being. Was this just some kind of game to keep her coming back? He'd said no, but how did she know he was telling the truth?

She looked at him, narrowed eyes with suspicion. Miles didn't like him and she was sure he had a good reason for it. But he didn't hear the same kind of disdain coming from Monroe's mouth when he spoke about her uncle. It was a very odd dynamic indeed and she wanted to know more. Charlie knew it was too late, she was already hooked.

"Promise me you'll come back next week, and every week after that. You'll know everything you've been wondering about in due time. I promise. And when you do, then you can decide what to do."

Charlie was afraid. Not that he might be tricking her and lying just to get her to come see him every week, but that at the end of the day, she would hate the answers to her questions.

She nodded. "Fine." From behind him, she saw a mesh of black hair emerge between the other dancing couples. It was Greyson.

He looked at the General and bowed his head in a respectful manner. "President." He muttered.

"You're hear to whisk her away?" Monroe asked, shifting his eyes from him to Charlie and then back to him. It was easy to tell he was enamored with the girl and Monroe instantly took pity on him. Charlie would never reciprocate those feelings. He was sure of that.

"Yes." The boy answered, urgency in his eyes. "Charlie, it's really late. We have to go before Miles finds out you're here."

Monroe smiled at the mention of Miles's name. "In that case, you better get home, Cinderella." His voice was husky, eyes subdued. "Don't forget about our arrangement."

"I won't." She assured him, donning a straight face.

Charlie left his arms. The warmth of his body still absorbed in her skin. She looked back at him one last time as she blindly followed Greyson out into the cold night.

* * *

**If you have a minute, please let me know what you think. Thanks for reading! xoxo**


	4. Chapter 4: It's a Bad Man's World

**I wanna thank all of your for your reviews on this story. You're all too kind! **

**I meant to publish this earlier in the week but RL has been hectic and I finally go around to posting. Hope you enjoy!  
**

* * *

**Chapter 4: It's a Bad Man's World**

* * *

The wind outside was frigid, a cloudless sky above them as they rode back home. Charlie held on to the horse's reins, her mind stuck in the night's events. The sound of hoofs as they crossed the stream broke her reverie only for a second. Greyson's voice was like a radio frequency, it was faint at first before she heard it with clarity.

"You have no idea what you're getting yourself into. He's bad news, Charlie." His voice cracked, like a nervous teenager speaking to his crush for the first time.

Charlie wondered if President Monroe was really that big of a menace that Greyson found it impossible to speak about him without being terrified. Then she remembered how easily he'd talked dirt about the infamous leader and her mind fizzled again into a dazed state. She knew she had to come up with not one but several lies to tell Miles and Nora. Charlie had promised to be back to Monroe's estate the following week, and something deep inside told her it was the right thing to do.

Until that point, he'd been the only one who had been even remotely honest with her. The fact that Miles had been keeping secrets from her hadn't bothered her until now. She wondered what else she'd discover, and she hoped that it wouldn't cause a rift between her and her uncle. He was the only family member she had left and she loved him like a father. Finding out some dark secret she'd hate would break her.

Greyson's words infiltrated her hearing once again. "And when Miles finds out he's obviously going to kill me because I'm the only who took you to him." He shook his head, "I'm telling you, Charlie. He's the kind of guy who thinks he can have anything he wants just because he's the goddamn supreme ruler." He paused and Charlie saw him smile for the first time. "Unless..."

Charlie remained silent. She wasn't even sure why Greyson kept talking, it wasn't going to change her decision. But she was too tired to tell him to stop, tuning him out was easier.

"He's not the President of the whole country. If you wanted to, we—you—could move and then you'd be free from his laws and stupid rules." He smiled wide like he'd just come up with the most brilliant plan.

Rolling her eyes, Charlie finally spoke. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard." Her tone was flat and lifeless, like even speaking had taken all her energy.

His mouth dropped open. "Hey! I'm trying to help you here. You're the one who stupidly agreed to a date with the devil himself."

She raised her eyebrows, "You talk a lot of shit but I've yet to actually see you stand up for yourself in front of him." Charlie grimaced. "And you're forgetting that I agreed to this because I'm looking for answers. He promised to tell me everything and I believe he will."

"If that's it then why don't you just ask Miles? He knows the same things and he's much more trustworthy than the General."

Her eyes focused on the distance, her house coming into view across the marshy meadow. The horizon was starting to clear, the smallest hints of light rising from behind the hills. They'd stayed at the estate longer than planned and all she could think about now was the warmth of her bed and the plush feel of her pillow against her face.

"Miles won't talk, he'll pretend it's all a big lie constructed by Monroe and then he'll move us far away to who-knows-where in order to put distance between us and the Republic. I know my uncle too well. He's a stubborn son of a bitch." She replied.

"So it's Monroe now? What happened to President or General?" A huff left his lips.

They rode in silence the remainder of the way and when they arrived at the house, Charlie didn't do much but wave a weak goodbye before heading to the barn to return the horse.

* * *

Charlie stepped across the threshold slowly, gently closing the door behind her before tiptoeing her way upstairs. She'd barely placed her foot on the first step when Miles's tired but brawny voice broke the silence.

"Where were you?"

Her eyes widened and her body stiffened but she composed herself quickly before turning around to face him. "Miles." She smiled, "I went fishing, like I said I would."

Miles's head tilted, his face scrunched and mouth twisted. He wasn't buying it. "Really? That's weird because I went out to the river and you weren't there. The fellas fishing told me they hadn't seen you all evening."

It was cold but Charlie suddenly felt warm, sweaty even. Her lies were crumbling and she knew Miles wasn't an idiot, he'd see right through her. "I—" She stammered.

His head snapped towards the window when he heard the snarl of a horse. Coming to his feet he paced over, narrowing his eyes at his niece. A finger pulled at the curtain and he peeked outside, spotting the black-haired boy galloping away. Charlie could almost hear the sigh of relief leaving his chest. He turned, greeting her with an unexpected smile.

She was baffled but it was better than him finding out she'd been chatting and dancing the night away with Monroe.

"You gonna tell me what's the deal with Dark Rider over there?" He crossed his arms over his chest, a sign that he was waiting for an explanation. However, his body had relaxed considerably and Charlie knew she was out of the woods for the time being.

"Um, his name's Greyson. He's a friend." She shrugged.

Miles nodded, "Friend. Okay."

With eyebrows perched she slowly began ascending on the steps. She was tempted to explain that there was nothing romantic going on between her and Greyson, but she quickly realized this was the answer to her problem. If Miles thought she was seeing the boy, it would be easy as pie to get out of the house any time she wanted without much of an excuse. A soft smile appeared on her face as she headed to her room.

* * *

Charlie curled up in bed, her body twisting as Monroe once again found a way to hijack her dreams. The constant pressure in her nether regions was sweet and pleasurable. She was in a state between asleep and awake and she forced her eyes shut, refusing to abandon the dream and return to reality. His lips felt too good on her skin, shivers invading her being, as he continued exploring her every curve. She wanted to get to the point of release, she craved it more than anything but no matter how hard she tried, she found it impossible to achieve it.

Her eyes fluttered open, waking up completely unfulfilled and frustrated. Kicking the sheets off her, she grumbled like a child before sitting up. There was a mirror across from her, reflecting her vexed expression.

Charlie shook her head. "God, I'm an idiot."

After throwing on some clothes, she headed downstairs, certain she'd be questioned by Miles once again.

Nora's voice was audible from the top of the stairs. "It's not even noon yet, Miles."

"It's also a weekend, what's the big deal?"

Charlie shifted her weight from one foot to another, trying to decide if now was the best time to join them. She waited up there for a sign that things weren't as bad as they sounded. But Nora was agitated and her voice broke, evidently she'd been crying.

"The big deal is that you only drink when—" She lowered her voice, "You only drink when you're thinking about one thing."

There was a long pause before Miles spoke. "I can't just forget at will. It's not like I'm hurting anyone either. Tell me, have I ever hurt you?" His voice sounded like he'd already had a few too many.

Another long silence. "You don't get it. Thinking of her does hurt me, Miles. It hurts because no matter how much I've tried to be there for you, you'll always just see me as an unfit replacement."

Charlie reacted to this accusation. She'd never heard Nora and Miles discuss things so openly before. Her feet slowly began to move, lowering down the stairs until she was around the corner from the kitchen.

"That's not true and you know it." Miles's words sounded a little slurred. "I love you, Nora. I love you, goddamn it! What else do you want me to do to prove it?"

"But you also still love her, don't you?"

Charlie held her breath, as if exhaling would give her away. She wanted to know who they were arguing about. Nora was a good friend and seeing her hurt made her automatically hate whoever this _she_ was. Charlie made a note to ask Monroe about it the next time she saw him, maybe he knew something on the matter.

"Some scars never fade, no matter how many years pass." Miles muttered. Charlie's eyes widened, the similarity of his words to what Monroe had said about him made her shiver. "It wasn't her time to go and you know it."

She heard sniffling but Nora's voice sounded more composed. "It was an accident Miles. Would you have been okay with losing Charlie instead?"

Charlie's mouth dropped open. _How had she become the subject of conversation?_

"Everything could've been avoided, Nora. All of it." Those were Miles's last words before Charlie heard the back door slam.

She waited a few moments before entering the kitchen.

A smile adorned her face, acting completely oblivious to the conversation onto which she'd just eavesdropped. "Good morning."

Nora smiled. She was good at hiding things. Too good. "Good morning, Charlie. I didn't hear you come down. Sleep well?"

She nodded. "Like a baby, and you?"

"Same."

Charlie picked up a chipped mug and poured herself some milk. Drinking from it, she eyed Nora, trying to solve the enigma that was her silence. There wasn't much to assess, she'd twirled a strand of her hair a few times and talked about what a beautiful day it was. Surprisingly enough, before their little fight, Miles had found the time to tell her about Charlie's supposed relationship with Greyson.

Smiling she placed the mug in the dried up sink. "It's nothing serious, we're just hanging out. Miles has the tendency to exaggerate." Charlie said.

Nora's expression was chipper. It was quite troubling considering she'd been crying just a few minutes before. "Spending the whole night out with a boy doesn't sound like _nothing serious_."

Charlie rolled her eyes. "We just talked." She could tell Nora was doubting her words. "Anyway, I'm going for a swim and then heading into town for a few things. Need anything?"

The brunette shook her head. "We're all good here."

_All good_ was the polar opposite of how things really were at the house, and Charlie knew it.

* * *

The heat of the sun radiated in waves off the old train tracks that ran along the border of town. The train was used every now and then to carry cargo, most of it was used by the Republic in their continued efforts to restore the power. By now, knowledge of the experiments happening at the university in Austin were no longer a secret.

Charlie had grown accustomed to seeing the lights flicker from time to time. There had even been evenings when the light had remained on for over an hour. Most electrical gadgets had stopped working and without proper electronics, it was hard to actually enjoy the benefits. It only really serve to light the imperfections of the world in which they lived in, but she found it fascinating nonetheless.

With backpack swung over her shoulder, she made her way through the marketplace. There were fresh greens every Sunday, and that day wasn't the exception. Her fingers trailed over the heads of cabbage, over the crowns of broccoli and the yellow, baby corn. She tried to picture in her head what Nora would be making for dinner with each of the ingredients and she found her mouth salivating at the thought of food.

She picked up a few of the vegetables and then headed to the stand where the grains were sold. Charlie stood there for a while, getting distracted by a little girl playing with a homemade doll. She could very vaguely remember her own childhood. There was a melancholic pang in her chest as she wondered if she'd been a happy child. She certainly hoped so.

"Next!" The woman behind the small selection of grains called to her.

Charlie approached the stand, asking for a large bag of wild rice and small bag of lentils. She payed with the town's currency—noting Monroe's face on the coins—and thanked the grey-haired woman. As she stuffed her bags inside the backpack, her ears perched at the sound of a scuffle just a couple blocks down the street.

From that distance, she could see Militia men patrolling the station as usual, always guarding the precious cargo that would be making its way to the university. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Not at first.

It was in Charlie's nature to want to investigate, and as she sauntered over to the now inoperable ticket booths, she caught sight of two Militia men accosting a young girl. The girl turned her face away, as one of them tried to grab her chin.

"Let's go, Seth. It's not going to happen today." The one on the horse said, starting to retreat.

Charlie's eyes were glued on them. Her hand placed on her hip as she kept a close watch.

The one named Seth ran the back of his hand over the girl's cheek. She looked really young, younger than her. Charlie was disgusted by the action, repulsed by the way he seemed to enjoy her squirming. "But she's so pretty."

It was like listening to an insane person speak. He was clearly delusional.

"Listen to your partner, just leave me alone. I'm not interested." The girl spoke, almost heaving in exasperation.

This made the man angry. He grabbed her chin with force. "You listen to me. You see this?" He pointed to his Militia uniform. "I'm the law. You don't tell me what to do. I tell _you_ what to do." He grumbled, "Bitch."

Charlie's jaw clenched, heated by what she was witnessing. She ran up to the man and yelled at him. "Hey asshole! She said she's not interested!"

His face turned as if in slow motion, eyes seething with anger. "You're talking to me?"

"Yes. I'm talking to you." Charlie replied, hearing metal horseshoes hitting the pavement behind her. The man's partner was back, this time to deal with the disturbance she was causing. Charlie gave him one quick glance.

"This matter doesn't concern you." He said, "Why don't you run along and go back home before something bad happens to you."

"Are you threatening me?" She turned to him this time. "Let me get this straight. You're just going to stand around and watch as your friend bullies this woman? Is this what you learned during your training with the Republic? Is your manhood that compromised that you have to force yourself on someone else to feel better about yourself?"

The man on horseback laughed, signaling to his partner. He let go of the woman and she ran off, not even looking back to see what would happen to her savior. Charlie swallowed hard, knowing she was in trouble.

The man, Seth, brought his hand up to Charlie's face. She pulled away before he could come in contact with her. "Don't you dare touch me, you prick."

He looked at his partner, impressed by her courage. "I can handle this one, Garrett." His partner gave one quick snort before moving away from them. The distance he'd put between them was small, Charlie knew he'd be sticking around to see what would happen.

"General Monroe will hear about this, and when he does—"

He laughed, "General Monroe? Are you personally going to tell him?" With a hand to his stomach, he laughed some more. "Please. You might be pretty enough to make it as a town whore, but there is no way you'd ever make it past the Republic's gates."

There was an uncomfortable closeness between them now. His breath smelled of cheap whiskey and cigarettes. And the sour smell of sweat perspiring from his skin made Charlie's stomach turn. She pulled back.

"You're disgusting." She said, turning to walk away.

The man's eyes scanned her up and down, cursing her for having put a stop to his fun. He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back. "You cost me that girl. Now you gotta pay me back."

Charlie pushed him away, aware of the lascivious stares he was giving her. The moment he got close again, she punched him square in the face. His lip bled and he touched it for a moment before lunging at her angrily. He hit her back, her face temporarily numb before it began pounding. His grimy hands closed in on her again. Charlie struggled to free herself from his grasp, kicking and elbowing him every chance he got.

His partner returned, "What the fuck are you doing, Seth?"

"This bitch thinks she can attack an officer without consequences. I think we ought to show her what happens to those who cross the Republic."

He turned Charlie over, slamming her against the ticket booth and quickly snapping on some handcuffs. Her nose was bleeding and her vision was blurry, an effect of the impact she'd suffered. The pain was sharp but she remained unbroken, refusing to cry in front of them. The dirtbag fetched his horse and threw her onto the wagon it was hauling, placing another set of cuffs on her feet.

* * *

_Was this how she was going to die?_ Charlie thought, as they made their way out of town. People around her stared like she was an oddity. For the most part, she kept her eyes downcast, afraid of the attention.

"We're almost there, sweetheart." The man said to her. The pet name was revolting.

The wagon came to a halt, and Charlie was surprised at how quickly they seemed to have reached their destination. She looked around, noticing empty fields on either side of her—the town a tiny speck in the distance. Suddenly, the thought of dying was more appealing than the thought of what else they might have been planning to do with her.

"Aren't you two supposed to be guarding the station? What are you doing away from your post?"

Charlie's heart fluttered and her eyes widened at the sound of his voice. She turned, unable to see him from behind the wagon.

"General, we have a prisoner that needs to be taken back to the cages."

She fought the urge to yell out his name, knowing he'd find out soon enough who she was.

There was an uneasy silence. "Who's the prisoner and what's the crime?"

The man laughed scornfully, "A girl from town. She was causing trouble before she attacked me."

"A girl from town?" Monroe huffed, "You let yourself get beat up by a girl and you think that's reason enough to leave your post unmanned? And why are you both taking her in? Is she some kind of trained assassin or something?" The other men who accompanied Monroe chuckled. "Where is she?"

Charlie's heart began to thump in her chest. She watched out of the corner of her eye as the horse approached her. Her eyes moved slowly up towards the sky until they came in contact with Monroe's.

She watched his expression change to that of utter fury, a threatening stare directed at the man who was transporting her. Monroe jumped off his horse, closing in on her face as he inspected her injuries. Her cheek was red and swollen, dried up blood that had drained from her nose was smeared above her lip. He touched her face, causing her to flinch. The adrenaline had worn off and the pain was now fully present.

Without another word he pulled the man off the horse, throwing him to the ground. Seth looked at him, fear in his eyes, "General..." his voice trembled. "She attacked me, I had to fight back."

Monroe threw himself on him, punching him relentlessly as his partner watched in horror. When he'd finally grown tired, he stood up, leaving the man half dead lying on the ground.

"What did you do to her?" He asked his partner.

"Nothing." He replied, "We didn't do anything, I swear."

Charlie made eye contact with Monroe, and he walked over to her with keys in hand as he began to undo her cuffs. "Nothing?" He replied, looking at Charlie's face. "Does this look like nothing to you?" He demanded, his eyes threatening to impart the same faith on the other officer.

"Seth might have gotten a bit out of line, Sir." He replied.

"And you? What were you doing that you couldn't do the right thing?"

The man looked away, ashamed by his inability to take action. "I let it happen, General. I apologize for my lack of judgement."

"You apologize for your lack of judgement." Monroe mocked him before he smirked, contempt the only thing evident behind his action. "I'm going to make an example out of Seth here." He announced. "That way all of you know what happens when you use the Republic's name to act like fucking barbarians!" His anger made the vein on his forehead visible.

He looked at Charlie, a softness in his eyes that was only reserved for her.

"Get up!" He ordered the man on the ground.

When he was up on his knees, Monroe retrieved his gun. Charlie's eyes widened, shocked by what he was doing. Sure, the man had been a pig and was obviously a worthless piece of shit, but even then, shooting him seemed way too extreme.

Monroe cocked the gun. The way he aimed it, unwavering and ruthless, was frightening. Charlie shut her eyes, _was she really going to let a man die because of her?_

"Stop!" She yelled, opening her eyes to the brightness. "Don't do it."

Monroe looked at her in awe, his gun still pointed at the officer. "Why not?"

"Because it's murder." She blurted out. "And it's wrong."

He stared at her blankly before looking down at the man who was at his mercy. Monroe cocked his head, "He hurt you–"

"And killing him will put his death on my conscience." She shook her head. "I don't want that. Please, don't do it."

There was an eerie silence before he pulled the gun away. "Okay." He muttered. Looking at the man he said, "I hereby relieve you of your duties, officer. The Republic no longer requires your services." In one swift motion, he aimed at him and shot him, the bullet penetrating his leg.

The man fell over, squirming in agonizing pain.

Charlie looked at Monroe horrified. "Why did you do that?"

"You said not to kill him, so I didn't. Now come with me, you need to get those wounds looked at." He tried to hold her hand but Charlie yanked it away.

"No." Her eyes were dead set on him. "I've had enough of you and the Republic for one day. I want to go home."

Her demeanor was poised but the emotions swimming through her body were threatening to break the surface. For the first time since she'd first met him, Charlie was truly appalled. But there was another emotion coursing through her—thrill. And that thrill, the one she felt knowing that he was willing to kill for her, made her sick to her stomach. She knew it was wrong, so why did it give her comfort?

There was a darkness in him that she was reluctant to explore, afraid that doing so, would alter her completely.

* * *

**I'd appreciate a quick review, if you have a second. Thanks for reading! xoxo**


	5. The Half-Truth And Nothing But

**Chapter 5: The Half-Truth And Nothing But**

* * *

The week went by uneventfully. Charlie had lied about the reason for her injuries. Having had a record of being one to not go down easy, Miles believed her claim that all she was doing was defending herself from a creep in town.

Miles and Nora acted as if their little morning fight that Sunday had never occurred. Charlie found herself being swept up in the easy going dynamic that she'd grown accustomed to over the years but the discussion still pricked at her like a splinter under the skin. Now more than ever she wanted to know everything they'd been keeping from her.

It was Saturday morning, the weather had turned from heated summer to windy autumn over the course of days. And there was something about it that she found comforting, the gloominess and overcast skies gave her a type of peace that was indescribable but welcoming.

Charlie moved her spoon in a circular motion, creating a whirlpool in her watery oatmeal. Her eyes were transfixed on the window, the trees outside swaying like banners across the opaque green fields.

She allowed her mind to get carried away, thinking of the way in which Monroe had so easily pointed a gun at one of his men—a man who had pledged his allegiance to the Republic and who without a doubt would be willing to take a bullet for him. The fire in his eyes, the way they were set ablaze with anger, they were forever burnt into her memory. She'd watched him turn into an indomitable and frightful monster right before her eyes. Perhaps Greyson had been right, maybe that's what was hidden underneath the General facade.

But he wasn't always like that. Charlie remembered his smile, the sweetness that dripped from his lips whenever he said her name. The way he called her _Charlotte_, like her name had a deeper meaning, more than being just a mere moniker. A warmth flared up in her belly at the thought of his deep blue eyes, his strong hands brushing up against her side, the heat that was emitted from his body whenever he got too close. It all blended together in her mind—dreams, reality, fantasy.

Charlie wasn't sure who the real Monroe was but her body seemed to react the same, no matter which one she thought about. She harbored more than just an innocent crush on him but she'd never allow herself to admit it out loud. It was something she only ever acknowledged in the confines of her own clouded mind.

There was a creak as the front door opened. It resonated throughout the silent house, footsteps growing louder, followed by a big thump on the wooden table behind her. Charlie turned, seeing Miles holding a giant orange pumpkin.

"Fall's here, kid. This one's the first of many." He smiled wide, his teeth showing and eyes narrowing with joy.

_The first of many_, Charlie thought, smiling back. She was about to tell the first of many too. Lies, that is. It was Saturday, after all, and she'd promised Monroe she'd be back. Thinking back to it, she couldn't recall how she'd managed to get herself wrapped up in him so easily. It was just a few days ago when she'd seen him for the first time, now here she was, about to lie to her uncle in order to go speak with him.

"You're not gonna carve that thing already, are you? It's not even October yet." She got up from the table and let her bowl sink into a bucket of soapy water.

Miles cackled. "Don't be an idiot, Nora's gonna roast the seeds and cook the rest." He stared at Charlie for a moment, noticing there was a livelier expression on her than usual. "What about you? Why the chirpy mood?"

The wiggle of his eyebrows made Charlie laugh. "Says the guy with the stupid grin on his face." She replied.

They shared a chuckle. "You know you can tell me anything." Sensitive Miles was a rare thing, Charlie could almost feel his level of discomfort and it always amused her. She smiled, watching him struggle in an attempt to provide her with fatherly advice. "You and Dark Rider serious?" He joked.

Laughing, she finished rinsing the bowl and began drying it with a clean towel. "His name's Greyson, and that would be a no." She pursed her lips. It was true. She and Greyson weren't really serious because in reality, there was nothing between them. But Miles didn't need to know the whole truth. "We're just hanging out. He's a good kid."

The way she called him kid made her realize that's exactly how she viewed Greyson. He was only a year younger than her but when it came to maturity and life experience, they seemed lightyears apart. He was more like a little brother than anything else. He even annoyed her like one was probably likely to do. A slight pang in her chest reminded her of Danny, the brother she never got to meet. It was an odd feeling, missing someone who'd always been absent from her life.

"A good kid doesn't keep a girl out all night, you know?" He titled his head, alluding to something else.

Charlie's expression was exactly that of anyone listening to an adult relative trying to speak about sex. She shook her head, "Miles, ew. I don't want to have this talk with you. I know how things work and I know all there is to know by now."

"I just want to know if you're being _safe_." He almost cringed, not believing the words coming out of his own mouth.

She covered her ears. "Stop. This isn't happening. You need to go and be unsafe with Nora or something. Have your own kid to have this conversation with. I'm out." Grabbing her jacket from a peg on the wall, she headed towards the door. But there was hesitation on her part, "I'm being safe," she said in an effort to provide him with some reassurance. "And I have things to do all day, so don't expect me back until later tonight."

"Things, huh?"

Charlie grunted. "Yes, Miles. Things!"

She slipped her arms into her jacket, feeling the cool breeze as she walked to the barn. From a distance she could hear him yelling at her. "Tell Dark Rider I said, hi!"

* * *

The guard at the gates gave her a once-over. She was dressed in her usual attire, jeans that clung to her legs like spandex, tall worn out boots, tank top that always seemed two sizes too small and the leather jacket she'd gotten from her uncle on her 21st birthday. Her hair was wet, water still dripping down the ends from the bath she'd taken at the swimming hole before venturing to Austin.

The man's eyes closed in on the knife that hung from her chain belt. He pointed at it, as if a small knife was a match for the firearm that was strapped to his hip. Charlie arched her eyebrows, asking without speaking why it was such a big deal.

"No weapons inside the property." He finally spoke.

Charlie rolled her eyes. "It was a gift. I can't just hand it over."

"It'll be returned to you when you leave." He replied, asking for it.

Her hand was wrapped around the horse's straps as she walked it inside. She took the knife and stuffed it in a pouch hanging from the saddle. Without saying another word, she handed the reins over to the guard and walked the rest of winding trail that led to the impressive residence.

The atmosphere was tranquil, nothing compared to the previous weekend when the guests had overrun the place, flashing expensive jewelry and attires fit for fashion runways. A woman with a maid's outfit greeted her as she got to the door. She was an older lady, small and frumpy with short, straight, silvery hair. Her appearance was surprising considering Monroe was known for his ladykiller ways.

"I'm here to see the General."

"You must be Charlotte." She replied with a sweet smile.

Charlie nodded, taken aback by her greeting.

"Right this way, Miss." She guided her through a long corridor, leading her back to an open courtyard. "The General will be right with you, he's been expecting you all morning."

Charlie reacted in surprise and smiled. "Thank you." She said, taking a seat on a concrete bench.

The woman went back to her duties and Charlie thought carefully about her words. Monroe had been expecting her all morning, and although this brought upon a form of satisfaction, Charlie still wasn't completely over what had happened the week before.

There were still a few things they had to discuss about that ordeal and the sooner she got it off her chest, the better. She couldn't look at the Militia men the same way anymore. Every time she saw the uniform, all she thought about was how despicable they could be. She noticed the roses growing next to the bench and reached out to touch the petals. Their softness and the smell made her chest tighten in an odd but familiar way.

There was a sound of voices that came from the other side of the wall. Charlie stood up, heading towards the courtyard's only entrance and peeking out into the stone corridor. Unlit torches lined the path along the wall and she saw Monroe standing a few yards away. He was speaking to Aaron Pittman. The scientist adjusted his glasses before conversing fluently with his hands. Charlie could see he was frazzled but couldn't make out the words to their exchange.

After a few moments she began making her way over to them, tired of waiting for Monroe to come to her. The sight of his uniform only fueled her displeasure, like a hot knife twisting in her entrails. It wasn't long before they noticed her, Monroe's eyes lit up with excitement and he smiled faintly. Aaron on the other hand pointed at her in disbelief.

"That's Miles's niece. Why is she here?"

Charlie looked at him confused, wondering why Monroe hadn't bothered to let anyone but his maid know she was going to be there.

Monroe kept his eyes on her, enthralled by the beauty before him. "Go back to work on those lights, Aaron. Stop asking questions that don't concern you."

The scientist opened his mouth but didn't utter another word. Instead, he placed his hand on his forehead, wiping it clean as if he'd been sweating, and grumbled under his breath. He looked at Charlie, speaking with his eyes in a language that she couldn't possibly understand. She pursed her lips, baffled by his reaction. One last shake of the head and he was gone, turning a corner and disappearing from sight.

Charlie didn't wait for a proper greeting. She eyed Monroe's uniform with disgust and then verbally attacked him. "How could you let your men do things like that?"

He was wide-eyed. "Charlie–"

"They probably do that on a daily basis, right under your nose, while you're here sitting comfortably in your golden throne." She blurted out, "I'm sure that's not the first time it's happened. And you know it."

She swung her arms around before he clasped onto them. The pressure of his body against hers did nothing to appease her agitated state. "You need to calm down." His face was inches from hers, lips moving dangerously close.

Charlie felt a tug in her stomach, like something inside her was tearing apart. "Are you also like your men?" She asked, referring to the way in which he was restraining her. "Is this what being part of the Republic is all about? Taking advantage of people whenever you feel like it?"

He was shocked by her words. "You have a very skewed view of the Republic, Charlotte." Voice was low and even-tempered. "That's not how I run things." His eyes drifted down to her lips, tempting like water to a parched tongue. "And if you don't recall, I was willing to deal with the individual that hurt you. You were the one who stopped me from doing so."

She swallowed hard, her head tilted back and her eyes burned into his. Charlie was starting to relax, even though her heart was still pumping blood at a million beats per second. It was true, she had intervened. But that's not what she wanted to hear.

Monroe's grip slowly diminished, allowing more air to fill her lungs as their bodies separated.

"I can assure you I'm nothing like that. Trust me. If I ever hear of behavior like that happening again, I will make sure to personally discipline those responsible. It will not be taken lightly."

His assurance put Charlie at ease. She turned her back to him, facing the east garden at the end of the corridor. It was a feeling she couldn't explain but she knew that she could trust him to carry on that promise. Her breathing was just starting to steady when she felt his hand on her arm. Fingers closed in on her, his face leaning into her ear from behind.

"Now, why don't we forget about this and enjoy the day ahead of us?" Sultry breath tickled her ear, making her shudder involuntarily.

A smile appeared on Monroe's lips, finding her response as gratifying as the natural aroma that bathed her skin.

* * *

They strolled along a shallow pond, the sun's rays barely penetrating the thick clouds above. Water lilies floated above the mossy water and a dragonfly zipped over the surface. It was tranquil, a serene little spot away from the prying eyes of the officers that roamed the premises.

"This is nice and private," Charlie mused, "Is this where you usually take all your dates?"

Monroe gave her a reprimanding look, his brow crinkling.

"I'm sorry. Sorry." She repeated sheepishly. "I will try to keep my assumptions to myself. It's rude."

He smirked. "It is awfully rude. You're hurting my feelings," he joked.

Charlie couldn't help giggling. She cleared her throat, as if laughing in front of him was prohibited. Monroe stared at her intently, captivated by her every gesture. Her cheeks were rosy, an obvious sign that she'd felt slightly embarrassed.

"So, what lie did you tell good old Miles this time?"

Her hips moved gracefully with every step she took, the fullness of her attributes guided his thoughts to a sinful place. Coming to a halt, he watched her, hypnotized by her movements. Charlie turned, catching him red-handed.

She should've been offended, displeased by the special attention he was giving her. But she also had an ego, and it relished in every glance he directed at her. If she was being perfectly honest, her eyes had wandered to his backside on more than one occasion already. It would have made her a hypocrite if she'd chastised him for doing the same to her.

Charlie pretended to be oblivious to his gaze. "I didn't really lie. I just said I had things to do. Whatever scenario he made up in his mind is out of my control." She shrugged.

He sauntered towards her, his tall and lean form invading her personal space. "Did you say what time you would be back?"

The tone of his voice had an alluring and provocative quality that made Charlie's core come alive. She wasn't sure if he was insinuating anything but it made her imagination run wild. "I'm not sure what you had in mind for today. But I can assure you, General, it will not entail an overnight stay."

His lips pressed together, a smile forming across his face. "_General_ has quite a different," he paused, speaking in a low voice, "And delectable sound coming from your lips. But you don't have to call me that."

Charlie's heart was racing, knees weakening as his words sunk in. She barely had the capability to reply. "Then what would you like me to call you? President?"

"I have a name, Charlie." He eyed her features with precision.

"Okay." She smiled nervously. "Sebastian, it is."

He twisted his mouth, like the name was foreign or incorrect. "Sounds too formal, don't you think?"

A laugh erupted from her chest. "That is your name. You call me Charlotte."

He nodded, accepting her reasoning. "I'd like you to call me Bass." Licking his lips, he inched a little closer. Charlie inadvertently held her breath. He stared at her for a few moments, tempting her and making her wonder what he was going to do next.

"I don't know about you but I'm starving. How about some lunch?" He murmured.

* * *

During their meal, Bass—as Charlie had effortlessly began to call him—provided her with a brief but quite thorough history of the new Republic. There were obvious gaps left unexplored during the conversation, ones that Charlie was sure would be brought up again once she began uncovering the full story.

For now, she was happy to get some confirmation to the tales she had heard about the end of the Patriot War and the rebuilding of the Monroe Republic. Settling in Austin had never been in Bass's plans, but unforeseen circumstances had trumped his desire to rebuild in the East. And the fact that the old Republic had been pulverized by nuclear bombs had everything to do with that decision.

They'd talked for what seemed like hours, before Charlie found herself all alone in the confines of his study.

Her finger ran over a dusty book, its spine was worn out, the title completely erased. She pondered silently, waiting for Bass to return. He had excused himself after Aaron had rushed in unannounced. The lights had been going on and off in the residence and the surrounding little towns, and they'd now been on for what must have been a couple hours. Bass was enthusiastic about the possibility of restoring the power, explaining how it would be the end to the majority of the nation's problems.

During their chat, Charlie had found out that he was getting close to sealing a deal with President Affleck, a treaty that would guarantee an alliance between the Commonwealth and the Republic, and that would prove useful when it came down to revving up the national economy once again.

Years of erosion and tempest weather had given rise to deeper ground, uncovering new gold and wealth underneath the California soil. They were now the richest part of the nation and everyone was vying for President Affleck's attention—dying to make business with him. Bass had told her the President owed him a favor, yet another secret he was still unwilling to share in full detail.

She leaned over the windowsill, watching the flow of officers along the compound from the second story of the house. It was late afternoon, early signs of a reddened horizon alerted her that she only had a few hours left before she had to return home.

A sigh left her lips, and she heard the door handle turn before the door swung open. Bass walked in, uniform jacket gone and replaced by a grey v-neck shirt. Charlie hadn't noticed the muscularity of his arms until that moment .

Her tongue darted over her lips before speaking. "Everything alright?"

He nodded, "Just routine debriefing. It's all under control." The smile on his face was charming on all levels.

"I've been wondering something." Charlie blurted.

Bass wasn't surprised, wonderment and curiosity was what had brought there in the first place. He knew she had many questions but he also knew that not all of them could be answered at once. It would prove to be detrimental for both of them.

He waited silently for her to continue.

"Last week, I walked in—more like eavesdropped—on one of Miles and Nora's conversation." She went quiet for a second. "I got the sense that Nora was accusing Miles of having feelings for another woman. She didn't say a name only referred to a _her_ that Miles was still in love with."

His expression was unfazed, aside from the faint movement on one corner of his mouth.

"Nora was crying. I'd never heard them argue like that before." She got closer to him, like getting a better look would give her the answers. "Do you know who this woman is? Nora referred to her loss as an accident and then asked if Miles would have rather lost me?"

Bass tore his eyes away from her, staring into space as his mouth flattened into a line. "Charlie." He exhaled. "That's Miles's business."

"You know." Her eyes searched for his. "You mentioned how much Miles had suffered, how some wounds never heal. Is that what you were referring to? Did he lose someone he loved before the blackout?"

He shook his head, telling her the partial truth. "It wasn't before the blackout. It was after. And he did love her but I also know that he found someone special in Nora. If they're still having issues over that then it's something they have to deal with. It doesn't pertain to you or me."

"So you're not going to tell me who she was."

Bass shook his head. "You're jumping ahead. It's not time for that story quite yet."

Her shoulders slumped in defeat. "If not that story, then which one?" She asked, aggravated.

The lines at the corner of his eyes deepened as he smiled. "You wanted to know how Miles and I met, right?"

Bass walked over to his desk, pouring himself a glass of whiskey and then doing the same for her. He handed her the cup, before taking a seat in a small sofa that was big enough for two. Charlie didn't need to be told to sit, she took her place next to him, their legs touching in a soothing manner as he began recounting the story.

Miles and Bass had been inseparable since they were born. Their fathers had been longtime friends before they each settled down and raised their families in Jasper, Indiana. Every special occasion, birthday, milestone, had been shared between the two families.

They considered themselves brothers, different blood ran through their veins but the familial ties between them were even stronger than the ones they had with their blood relatives. Ben being a little older always had his own group of friends. He never joined in on what he called childish games. Miles and Bass had shared accomplishments and disappointments, went to the same schools, enjoyed the same past times. They were always together.

Charlie smiled when Bass revealed that they both played in the fields, pretending they were part of a great military operation. He turned his arm over, showing her the mark of the Monroe Republic. It was a symbol that had stuck with them through their youthful years, until they both reached maturity, and for Bass, even beyond that.

"It's an M for Monroe but it's also for Matheson." He stated.

Charlie contained her desire to reach out and touch the mark. Instead, she continued to listen intently, her mind painting a vivid picture of everything he was saying.

"We both tried our hand at a higher education, enrolled at the local university. But our heart was set on something more." He began.

They'd only been going to school for a short time, when they came upon a recruiting officer. He made them envision a world of endless possibilities, giving them a chance to serve their country in unimaginable ways.

Bass and Miles were both sold immediately. They joined the Marines, traveling to distant lands, meeting new people, and enjoying life in ways that had seemed impossible until then. It wasn't long before they were sent to Iraq, and they both did two tours there before coming back home.

Charlie was lost in the story. She'd known her uncle was a brave man, having fought in the Patriot War, but she'd never stopped to think that the need to protect and serve was in him even before the blackout hit. It created an image of him that elevated him to admirable levels, and Bass was right up there with him.

"We were together when the blackout hit." He recalled, "We were driving down the highway when everything shut down."

"Were you hurt?" She asked, sipping whiskey from the glass.

He shook his head. "No. But a hell lot of other people were. Planes fell from the sky, there were explosions everywhere. It felt like the end of days." His eyes glazed over with the memories. "We were both at a loss, not knowing why it was happening. It was chaotic. Like hell itself had been brought upon the earth."

Bass gulped down the rest of his drink. "Miles and I hit some low points during that time. Survival of the fittest and all that." There was a long pause as he reminisced. "We did things we're not proud of but we both knew they were necessary. The military training we received proved to be of great value once the world went to shit."

"Then what happened? How did you start the Republic? Was Miles with you when that happened, did he join you?"

He laughed. "You're too inquisitive for your own good, Charlotte."

Charlie complained, "Please don't tell me you're done."

"Oh, but I am." Bass grinned. "That's enough story for today. If I tell you everything, there's no reason for you to come back, is there?"

She rolled her eyes but smiled. Charlie was too intrigued by him, not just the story, to keep herself from coming back. Her gaze followed him across the room, eyes sweeping over his backside mischievously as she bit her lip.

He leaned over the window, his back arching slightly. The scenery outside had become darkened by the night. The last traces of sunlight were disappearing from sight. He hummed and then turned around abruptly.

"How's your aim?"

Charlie furrowed her eyebrows. "Excuse me?"

"With a gun. How's your aim?"

"Um. I've never actually shot a gun."

He had a look of completely surprise. "What?"

"I don't know how. But I'm damn good with a crossbow." She grinned.

Bass paced over to her and grabbed her hand, pulling her up from the sofa. His hand was warm and the way he took control made her stomach tighten.

They walked outside, the cold creeping in slowly into the night. Charlie noticed his chest, his nipples had stiffened with the chill. She smiled to herself, finding her own actions childish and immature.

He shivered, muttering. "I can't believe Miles..."

Pulling out his gun, he gave her a brief lesson, naming the parts, loading and unloading it, turning off the safety, and cocking it before he fired. Then he handed it over for her to try. He did it so swiftly and gracefully, it looked so easy.

Charlie was confused by his sudden desire to teach her, especially seeing how late it was in the day. "Why do I have to learn this now? Couldn't this have waited for another day?"

"What? Spontaneity isn't your thing?" He teased.

She beamed, taking the gun in her hand and pointing it into the field. The dim lighting provided by the lamp post had a flickering effect.

"How do I know I won't accidentally shoot anyone?"

It was a fair question and Bass answered it properly. "There's nothing but trees for miles on end in that direction. Trust me, the bullet will lose momentum or hit a tree before anything else."

Her eyes focused on nothing in particular. She could only see the darkness of the wooded area ahead of her. Bass noticed her hand shaking. He stood behind her, bringing his arms around to steady her aim.

Charlie's breathing hitched. "Is this supposed to help me concentrate?" She blurted out, causing him to chuckle.

She could feel him brushing against her backside and a satisfying ripple ran through her body.

He whispered, "Steady." His fingers ran along her arms, as she expelled the air she'd been holding back. "Good. Just like that." The words made her center pulse without notice. "Breathe. In. Out." His voice was alluring. "Go ahead. Press the trigger."

A loud bang rang in her ears and resonated throughout the estate before turning into a faint echo. Charlie couldn't deny the experience had been a thrill, although half of it was probably due to Bass's closeness. She could still smell the citrusy scent of his soap on her own skin.

They fired a few more rounds before Charlie decided to call it a night.

"I told Miles I would be back tonight. I don't want him to go looking for me and find out I'm not actually with Greyson."

Bass laughed, a hint of jealousy present in his voice. "You told Miles you like that kid?"

"Well, if I had said it just like that, I wouldn't have been lying. I do like him."

He looked at her questioningly. "Well, as long as the Hughes kid doesn't believe it. I say it's a pretty good cover."

She smiled back at him, a little too seductively for a girl trying to keep her distance. "And what if he does? What's it to you?"

Bass took a step in her direction, chest brushing ever so lightly against hers. "It would be cruel and unfair to the poor kid."

Tilting her head upwards, she uttered, "Oh yeah? Why's that?"

He licked his lips before they parted into a smile. Having him so close was proving to be not only distracting but also irresistible. Charlie's stomach was twirling, reveling in the overwhelming feelings pumping through her veins.

His voice was like a soothing melody. "Because your heart isn't meant for him."

She pulled away, her body wired with sensations she couldn't even begin to describe. There was only silence before she blurted hastily, "I have to go."

Bass could tell she was afraid. He nodded, agreeing to her departure, but Charlie had only taken a few steps before he could fully allow himself to let her go. His feet moved almost on impulse, hand reaching for hers in a desperate attempt to get her back.

Her body spun around, one hand crashing into his hard chest.

Charlie didn't have a chance to speak. Her mouth was immediately enveloped by the warmth of his lips. They were soft but their movements were urgent. She gasped for air, letting herself be consumed by the many emotions running through her.

His hand moved along her back, stroking it gently and making the pulsing between her legs more unbearable. The feelings stirring up in her were driving her insane. Charlie clasped on to the nape of his neck, fingers raking at short dirty blonde curls.

After a few moments she was the first to pull away, short of breath and speechless.

He looked at her, apologetic. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be so forward." He said, "I don't know what came over me."

Charlie was surprised he seemed so ashamed, as if kissing her had never been part of the plan. She gulped, her breathing relaxing and the pulsing between her legs fading slowly. Everything she had felt for him in dreams was now more alive than ever.

"I have to go." She repeated, turning away and walking in long strides.

Bass didn't stop her that time.

* * *

**Thanks bunches to those of you who continue reading this story. Please leave me quick comment, if you have time! xoxo**


	6. All Those Pretty Lights

**I don't even want to know when was the last time I updated. I'm a horrible person.**

* * *

**Chapter 6: All Those Pretty Lights**

* * *

The warm October winds swirled through the house, the wooden door slammed against the wall as Miles and Nora continued going in and out, rearranging and organizing furniture like they were preparing for visitors from out of town. It was a little ritual that Nora had grow up with—clearing out the old summer decorations and replacing them with others to reflect the darker mood of fall. Charlie watched from the old rickety chair in the living room, she was hunched over, unzipping her boots and loosening the buckles as the busy bodies around her made the rounds.

Atop the counter in the kitchen sat a wild rabbit she had caught that morning while out during her usual hunt. It had been days since she'd heard from Greyson, but considering Miles hadn't questioned her about her _relationship_ she assumed everything was fine and her cover hadn't been blown. She sat back on the chair, imagining what Miles would say if he ever found out she'd been seeing Bass without his consent. _How bad could things really be between them?_

"Got lover boy on the brain?" Miles said, setting down a dusty box in the middle of the living room. "Don't think I've forgotten about your little escapades."

Charlie cleared her throat. "If you're so inclined to talk about romantic relationships, why don't you tell me about you and Nora?"

Miles huffed, "What?"

She thought about that day they argued over the mysterious other woman. Knowing she couldn't exactly bring it up out of the blue, she tried gaining information slowly. "I've been living with the two of you for years now and you've never actually told me how you met."

He rolled his eyes. "You know how we met, and you also know I'm not a sap."

Nora came into the house, a folded, brown, furry blanket in her arms. She hooked her foot around the door and shut it behind her. Looking at them she noticed she'd interrupted a touchy conversation—at least that's what Miles's face expressed.

"Then maybe Nora can tell me." Charlie said, smiling.

"Tell you what?" Nora took the blanket and aired it out, little dust particles flying everywhere. She threw it over the couch like a cover and flattened it out with her hands.

The inquisitive blonde twirled in one foot, "Tell me how you and Miles met. And don't say _after the Patriot War blah blah_, I know that."

Nora looked at Miles, the smile that had been present in her face dissipated slowly. "Well, it was after the Patriot War. Miles and I had known each other long before that—or at least known of each other—but we didn't engage until after war." She was quiet for a second, as if waiting for Miles to take over the conversation.

He released a loud exhale. "I was taking care of you when Nora and I crossed paths."

"After the explosion..." Charlie recalled, knowing what had happened the day they'd come under attack by the Patriots. It was all a blur to her. People screamed, called her name, Miles held her head up trying to keep her calm. The weeks recovering in the make-shift hospital had been the worst days of her life.

"I was working with a group from Atlanta. We were all trained medical professionals and when we came upon Willoughby and saw the disaster, we immediately went to work. I ran into Miles then. I was a nurse and he was a soldier. How's that for poetic romance?" She smiled.

"Not really a soldier." Miles contradicted her. "We were all idiots to go up against the Patriots in the first place. We should've just let them take over Willoughby. Not like the town was that great anyway."

Charlie bit down on her tongue, trying not to say the words that her brain kept repeating over and over. "And before you met? Was there anyone else?"

Miles furrowed his brow. "Geez kid, awkward much?"

"Sorry." She replied, knowing it was more uncomfortable for Nora than anyone else. "You're just so full of mysteries. Both of you."

"What you don't know can't hurt you." He replied with the tilt of the head and a crooked smile.

That was Miles's way of saying the conversation was over.

* * *

Charlie sat atop her bed, legs crossed and a long oversize shirt the only thing covering her otherwise half-naked form. It was eerily silent. Miles and Nora had gone to sleep hours before but she remained awake, mauling over every thought and detail.

She was tired of everyone treating her like a child. They were always so afraid to tell her the truth, as if keeping her in the dark was keeping her safe somehow. At least Bass was willing to talk but even then, what he told her wasn't what she wanted to hear. A chill ran over her, brought upon by the thoughts that surged in her mind.

Clawing at the covers, she nestled herself underneath them, curling up her legs and resting on her side. Her eyes focused on the white strip of wall below her window, fractured and missing pieces, just like the stories she'd been told. Charlie knew she had to find a way to uncover the history between Bass and her uncle.

She fluttered her eyes a few times, closing them for a few seconds before opening them up again. At some point during the late night hours, she finally succumb to sleep, drifting into a sea of dreams.

_"Miles doesn't know I'm here. He's going to kill me when he finds out I came to see you."_

_Bass laughed, pulling the oversized hood off her head. "He's going to kill me before he kills you." He proceeded to disrobe her, her bare body exposed to him under the dim moonlight that seeped through his window._

_The flame of a candle flickered next to his bed. Charlie smiled when she noticed the extents to which he'd gone to make it an unforgettable night._

_"Rose petals and champagne? A little overboard, don't you think?" But inside, her heart was fluttering with joy._

_Bass didn't reply, instead he held her face with the most gentle of touches and pressed his mouth onto hers. The images played like a movie, cutting from one scene to the next. Their bodies entwined over the soft satin sheets, rose petals sticking to their perspiring skin as he drove himself into her. The sensations felt so real._

_Charlie could feel his fullness inside her, the sweet pulsing of her center as he slipped into her core and then pulled out, his tip barely leaving her opening before he filled her up again. She moaned, her fingertips running over the muscles of his arms._

_She didn't want it to end._

* * *

Charlie could see the brightness of the sun behind her eyelids, her center still pulsating and aching for him as she rolled over on the bed. With her eyes still closed she caressed her inner thighs, a little moan leaving her lips as she came in contact with her delicate skin. She was trying to force herself to dream longer, thinking of his touch, his smell, his heated breath against her lips.

Her fingers busied themselves, moving in a circular motion over her bud and fueling her entire being with pleasure. All thoughts were of him, every word he ever spoke and every look he ever gave her. She continued her ministrations until she felt the burst of sweet relief in her core. Her temperature had risen, heat blanketing her as her beating heart steadied itself once again.

She finally opened her eyes, smiling and completely unashamed of her act.

With her fingers, she counted the number of days that had passed since she'd last seen him. Her heart leaped with anticipation as she hurried and got dressed. She wanted to get to Austin as fast as humanely possible.

* * *

It was like hearing the screeching sound of a train coming to an abrupt halt. "But Miles! I had plans today!"

Her uncle shrugged. "It's just a few hours, Charlie. What's the big deal? You can't miss out on two hours of time with your boyfriend to help me out?"

She snarled like a spoiled child. "That's not the point."

"You say it's nothing serious but sounds like he's got you pretty wound up already." He said, calling her over with his hand as he headed outside.

There were piles and piles of hay stacked outside the barn. It would take way more than two hours to take them all in and arrange them to Miles's liking. She couldn't blame him for being annoyed. Normally, she enjoyed doing mundane things like that to occupy herself instead of sitting around doing nothing.

But today was different. _He_ was waiting for her. The feelings in her stomach were overpowering, she felt it tumble around like the blades of a windmill, with every thought of him.

"Are you okay?" Miles asked, watching as she had stopped halfway, lost in thought.

"I'm fine." She replied, continuing with her work.

The last pile of hay was placed atop the tower that had been erected inside the barn. Charlie cleaned her hands and practically skipped over to her horse, petting it with care a few times before she guided it out of the stable.

"Are you at least going to tell me where you're going?" Miles asked.

Charlie finished placing the saddle on the horse and then hopped on it with ease. "If I tell you, you'll find a way to show up and wreck my fun." She stuck out her tongue like a rebellious teenager.

"Charlie!" Miles called out as she exited the barn. She turned around to look at him. "At least admit it's serious."

She sneered, "I'm afraid I'll ruin it if I do!"

* * *

There were only a few hours left of sunlight by the time she arrive in Austin. Around that time last week, she had just been preparing herself to make the journey back home. As she walked over to the residence, a voice called out to her from behind.

"You're late."

She stopped dead on her tracks, turning around slowly to see him standing there with his arms crossed over his chest. A pair of blue jeans clung to his waist and a white shirt peaked out from underneath his dark gray, leather jacket. He didn't look like a General at all, let alone a President. At least not the one she'd been used to seeing in posters all around town.

"You can thank your buddy Miles for that." Charlie replied, a little irritated.

A quick smile appeared on his lips and then disappeared just as fast. "I thought maybe you weren't going to show. After what happened last time..." He looked at her, searching her eyes for some sort of reassurance that him kissing her hadn't changed anything between them.

That kiss was everything Charlie had thought about all week. It crept up on her even when she was occupied doing something else. If anything, it was an incentive to come back and not something to deter her from continuing her visits.

Shaking her head she replied, "Let's not make mountains out of mole holes." Her tone was cold and careless, and most of all believable. She looked him up and down. "What's with the casual wear?"

He smirked, "I was thinking we could go on a little hike today instead of holing up in the house for a change."

By the way he said it, it could've be construed as them doing so much more than just talking during those hours they spent indoors. Charlie didn't quite smile but her features were soft as she glanced back at him. Her eyes fell over his form, gliding over him and catching sight of the bulge below his belt. As usual, her brain decided that was the best time to remind her of her dirty deeds.

She looked away and caught her breath. "Where are we going?"

He stepped towards her, placing a hand on the small of her back. "Away from here."

* * *

They reached the top of a hill, from there they could see over the green valleys—some greenery more vivid than others. Most of the trees were starting to wither, the long, hot summer had beaten them down, draining them of moisture. Now, the chill of autumn was taking its toll on them. Charlie sat on the ground, stretching out her legs in front of her and placing her hands by her sides as she leaned back.

Bass looked down at her, a beaming expression on his face as he took her in. Her thin shirt had risen above her navel, taut stomach peering at him from underneath. She was beautiful in every way imaginable, and she smelled like the meadows—fresh, flowery, and full of life. Her dark blonde hair fell over her shoulders in waves, undulating at the tips and shining with the last remnants of sunlight.

He wanted to reach out and touch her, kiss her again and taste her lips one more time. His rapidly beating heart was only the beginning sign of that familiar stir. Charlie stared off in the distance, watching as the sky acquired a lilac tint. She breathed in the air around her, her nose catching his scent and producing a chemical reaction in her body.

His eyes were still on her when she cocked her head, staring at him with great curiosity and longing. "I do believe you have a story to continue." Her smile was wide, white teeth sparkling as full, pink lips parted.

Bass took a seat next to her, his eyes unable to refrain from studying her long and lean body at a closer range. Charlie knew she was being watched carefully, and the way her chest was tightening made her feel out of air. She couldn't recall the last time a man had ever made her feel so unsure of herself.

"Where were we?" His voice was raspy and magnetic. She felt helpless to his allure.

Their faces were only inches apart. "You were about to tell me about the rise of the Republic." Her stomach was in turmoil, anxious and nervous by his proximity.

He nodded once and looked down at the ground, noticing their fingers were close enough to touch. "The years that followed after the blackout, Miles and I were just trying to survive and adapt to our new environment. We traveled by foot most of the time, until we got around to acquiring some horses."

Bass thought back to that time. He remembered it like it was yesterday. Miles had proposed they take the camp by force but Bass was unwilling to kill for no reason. They'd been starving, having not eaten a single thing in days.

The camp they had decided to spare turned out to be run by low-lives. As they were making their way into Philadelphia, they crossed the crooks while they were attempting to rob another camp. Miles didn't think twice before shooting them. He killed them each with one shot. Jeremy Baker had been the man they'd been trying to rob, and saving his life earned them his unconditional alliance.

He kept the details of the killing to himself but shared with her everything else.

"So Jeremy's been with you all those years." She huffed, "He knows Miles. That's why he didn't seem very happy to see me. He knows I'm his niece?"

Bass nodded. "After that, word got around that a couple of ex-Marines were making the rounds from one town to another all across the eastern seaboard. It was the beginning of a snowball effect. We helped people and in exchange we gained their trust. All they wanted was a leader to help them through the nightmares of the blackout. We started out with a very small army but our numbers quickly grew over the years."

At one point, Charlie let herself recline further, lying completely on her back and looking up at the darkening sky. She continued listening to the story, accounts of battles, enemies and friends her uncle and Bass had made on their way to constructing the Monroe Republic.

"Our plan was to reach Washington D.C., thinking that if any potential leader was to emerge, it would be the President hiding out somewhere in the District." He raised an eyebrow, "No such luck. The bastard was gone and as we came to find out, building his own little group of supporters. The patriots."

Philadelphia had been one of the biggest metropolitan cities that had been most affected by the blackout but it was crawling with stranded ex-military men. Bass and Miles settled there, recruiting them, just as they had been recruited years before.

"It took a decade before the Republic actually became what it was." He concluded. "And Miles was gone by then." There was silence on his end, only the sound of crickets surfaced in the distance. Charlie wanted to ask what had happened but before she could do so, he spoke again. "He didn't like what the Republic had become or the way in which I exerted my power." His last words were low and full of guilt.

She could tell it was an emotional subject for him and chose to keep herself from digging further. He had proven that he was true to his word. Eventually, she thought, he would share the rest with her.

"Do you think Miles will ever talk to me about all this?"

Bass lied down next to her, turning his face to look into her eyes. "Whether he does or doesn't, it doesn't matter. He's a good man, Charlie. Don't ever doubt that."

They looked up at the starry sky. Not a cloud was in sight, it was clear and beautiful and the stars shone like tiny dispersed lights above them. The stillness between them was peaceful, even comforting.

"I love doing this." Charlie said, "Just thinking of how tiny and insignificant we really are in the universe." She sighed, "It makes all the worries and problems seem minuscule in comparison."

He smiled, glancing at her again. "I promise you, Charlotte, you are not insignificant. Not at all."

She chuckled, her stomach whisking with excitement and her heart picking up its pace. This time it was her who felt something come over her. As if by impulse, she reached out her hand, touching the side of his face gently. The stubble on his chin pricked her palm in a tickling fashion.

Charlie came up on her elbow, hovering over him and staring at him without saying a word. She leaned down, pressing her lips into him and slowly beginning to savor his taste. They started at a leisurely pace, but the more she kissed him, the more their intensity grew. There was another stir between her legs as she relived her dream, this time really holding on to him. The only thing missing were his hands running over every inch of her body. Bass pulled away, and she was disappointed, for a second thinking he was putting an end to it.

Instead, he looked her in the eyes earnestly before going in for another hungry kiss. They relished in one another's taste, his hands freely moving over her back, fingers tracing over her sides and settling on her hips.

The heat in her core was consuming her little by little, her arousal getting stronger with every flick of his gifted tongue. She settled on top of him, legs parted over his hardened groin. The gradual increase of friction between them gave her some sort of relief, but her body continued begging for more.

Charlie hadn't been with a man in over a year, and the last time it had happened, she'd been intoxicated and careless. That was nothing compared to this.

Bass's lips sucked on the delicate skin of her neck as his hands moved lower down her back. He applied pressure to the firm plumpness of her ass as his hips jerked upward, rubbing her with his hardness.

She moaned, her hand slipping underneath his shirt and lining the muscles of his stomach. He moved one hand from her ass and brought it up to her breast, kneading it over her shirt and bra. The sensation was highly gratifying, piling up moisture between her legs. Charlie wanted him more than anything in the world.

Bass continued to touch her, fingertips slipping under the neckline of her shirt and grazing her stiff nipple beneath her bra. His cock throbbed in his pants at the feel of her warm nub and his mouth watered, longing for a taste.

Her fingers moved over his belt, working his zipper and dipping them underneath to touch his firm length. Bass froze, pulling her hand away.

"I can't." He said, trying to pull himself up to a seated position.

Charlie was puzzled, and she should've been offended to be turned down so abruptly. She unwrapped her legs from around his waist and pushed herself up to her feet. There really were no other words than the ones that left her lips.

"I'm so stupid." She said.

"No." He said, quickly coming to his feet. "No, it's not you, Charlie. Look at you."

She didn't know what to say.

"You're beautiful. Any man would kill to be with you."

Charlie exhaled. "Any man but you, right?"

"That's not it." He said. "I need you to know everything before we do something like that. It wouldn't be fair otherwise."

His response put her uncertainty at ease but she still wondered what made her so special that he couldn't bring himself to take her even when their bodies were so clearly willing.

* * *

They began their walk back to the house. In the distance they could see the glowing lights inside the property.

"Looks like Aaron's gotten the lights to stop flickering. If only it lasted longer than a few hours." He said.

Charlie mused. "You're really all about restoring the electricity, aren't you?"

Bass smiled, "You obviously don't know what you're missing out on. Consider yourself lucky."

They continued their stroll, talking like two friends becoming reacquainted after a long separation. Charlie had laughed more times during those few minutes than she had during the whole week, and Bass loved watching her joyous expression.

As he opened the front door and they stepped inside, they were greeted by Major Baker and Captain Hughes. Their demeanors were solemn, a sharp contrast to the smiling faces looking back at them. Charlie's eyes drifted to the back of the room, noticing the young man who accompanied them. Greyson looked at her and shook his head in a disapproving manner.

Bass knew it was too late in the night for just a casual visit. "What's going on, Jeremy?"

He remained silent and looked at Charlie.

"Captain Hughes has alerted me about a situation with Tom Neville. His men have been seen in the outskirts of the Republic for the past few nights. We're thinking he might be up to his old tricks."

Bass laughed. "Neville is all talk, no walk. We know that."

"There's more." Baker said, "But we'd prefer to speak in private."

Charlie looked at Bass and nodded, understanding that some things were not meant to be heard by anyone else but him.

The men headed to the study, leaving Charlie and Greyson all alone.

"Are you part of the Republic now too?" Charlie asked, trying to crack a joke.

The boy was serious, "Are you?"

She raised her eyebrows in response. "Don't be an asshole, Greyson."

He moved from his place, coming near her and speaking with a tone of concern. "I told you not to get involved with this guy. If you knew what my dad's told me about him–"

"Tell me. If he's really as horrible as you say, tell me why."

"He has no remorse for those who oppose him. This Neville guy, he's probably gonna be dead by the end of the week. Is that who you want to be with, Charlie? A killer?"

Charlie remained quiet and unfazed. It was all politics as far as she was concerned.

"If you do want to continue this ridiculous affair, at least have the decency to be honest with Miles. Do you know he ran into me in town today and asked about you?"

Her eyes widened, afraid that Miles now knew the truth.

"Don't worry," he mocked, "I covered for you, and then he warned me to be good to you."

She sighed, "Thank you."

"Don't thank me. I'm not even sure if I did the right thing. All you're going to accomplish with all this is to get hurt. Trust me, I've seen other girls attempt what you're doing. They all think they can be the one but that's never the case. That's not who he is. He won't settle. Not for you, not for anyone."

Charlie was starting to get angry now. This was the first time seeing him in days and he was speaking to her like she was stupid. "I'm here because he's hiding something from me and I'm determined to find out what that is. Miles is also far from being free of guilt."

Her conversation with Greyson was cut short, as Bass and his men entered the room. Captain Hughes and Baker continued on towards the door, and Greyson had no other choice but to follow.

After a moment, Bass placed his hands in his pocket. "I'm guessing you'll be leaving me as well."

She nodded. "It's pretty late and I have a long ways to go."

He'd give anything to have her stay but he knew that was impossible.

"Don't forget the dinner in Dallas is next weekend. I expect you here before noon, you'll have time to get dressed and ready before we depart."

"About that," Charlie began, "I don't really have anything to wear." She said, embarrassed.

A smile graced his face. "Don't worry about that. I'll take care of it, just be here by noon."

She pursed her lips but asked no further questions.

Bass walked her to the door and pulled her in close. Without hesitating he placed a kiss on her mouth. "I can't wait to see you again." He said, making her heart sputter.

There was a smile on her face before she kissed him again, her tongue tracing his lips in a tempting manner.

Charlie was falling, faster and harder than she'd anticipated. And her only hope was that he was feeling the same way too.

* * *

**Thanks for (still) reading! :) Please review if you have a moment. xoxo**


	7. Round and Round We Go

**I might have gotten a little carried away with the fluff on this one. Sorry, I couldn't help it. **

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**Chapter 7: Round and Round We Go**

* * *

Miles's hair was longer, a sliver of gray peeking from underneath as he ran his fingers through his mane. The lines of time had finely etched themselves on his face, but below the surface, in the treacherous tunnels of his mind, the image of Bass standing in the middle of a desolate field and covered in blood still haunted his waking hours. That day had marked the end of what he believed had been Bass's shot at redemption. He had made his choice and now he had to live with it. They both did.

The stomping of quickened feet on the wooden stairs snapped him out of his reverie. Charlie flashed him a smile, so wide that it reached her eyes. But he didn't smile back, at least not right away.

"What's wrong?" She noticed something was bothering him. In his hand was a crumbled piece of paper, likely a note that had been delivered by messenger at dawn.

His eyes flickered to Nora who was making her way back from the kitchen with a cup of hot tea. The mood in the house was gloomy, much like the weather outside. Charlie could clearly see the drizzle falling over the opaque fields from the front window.

"You can't say you're surprised by all this." Nora muttered, failing to realize Charlie was standing just a few feet away.

Miles cleared his throat as a sign, and when Nora saw her she smiled sheepishly, as if the conversation hadn't been meant to be heard by her. Charlie raised her eyebrows and sauntered over to them, her arms making an inquisitive gesture.

"Fifteen men." Miles said, showing her the crumbled piece of paper. "That's how many people Monroe had executed last night."

Charlie felt a pang in the pit of her stomach. The nauseating feeling that followed made her reach for the nearest chair. She sat, staring at Miles with wide eyes. "Why?"

"I'm telling you he killed fifteen men and your first reaction is to why?" He was clearly upset.

Nora lowered her head, the corner of her mouth moving slightly. Did she think this was funny? Her response made Charlie uncomfortable. But then she understood the response. It wasn't that she found it amusing. It was her way of expressing her discomfort as well. While Nora had always agreed with Miles's assessment of Bass, she very rarely spoke ill of him.

"I was wondering if he had a motive, that's all." Charlie answered, biting down on her tongue to keep herself from sounding defensive.

Nora spoke, "He received intel of a possible strike against his regime."

"So, it was retaliation." Charlie looked at Miles, "What would you have done if someone threatened to attack you?"

He narrowed his eyes, not liking her questioning one bit. "It was all hearsay. But did he care to ask questions first?" He shook his head.

"Asking questions could've been the last thing he'd done." Charlie looked off into the distance, trying to decipher the time. She was expected in Austin by noon.

The thought had barely crossed her mind when she rose up like a springboard.

"Where are you going?" Nora sounded more curious than concerned.

"I made plans for today. I'll be gone all day."

Miles chuckled. "This is getting ridiculous, Charlie." He leaned back on the couch, his head tilting his gaze to the ceiling. "Why don't you just bring lover boy over one of these days?"

She smiled faintly, the news of the executions still lingering fresh in her mind like the taste of spoiled milk on the tongue. "I'm fairly certain you'd hate him."

"Come on, he can't be that bad." He said, watching as her hand disappeared from sight behind the door knob.

Her voice rang from outside as the door shut. "You'd hate him so much, you'd probably kill him!"

* * *

Charlie believed him. She believed what he'd told her, the sincerity that always accompanied his words, the way in which he expressed himself with his hypnotizing blue eyes. And yet, deep in her gut there was a conflicting range of emotions swirling about like opposing currents. Her heart fluttered at the thought of him, yet her mind imagined the gruesome scenario that had taken place the night before. It was making her sick.

She rode at high velocity, reaching the limits of Austin in record time. The drizzle had been falling ever since she left the house and by now her hair was frizzy with moisture. She reached the front gate, going through the process of entering the premises in a mechanical way. Her mind was still wandering.

The fields and the meadows had began to wither due to the upcoming winter but the lawn and gardens of the estate were anything but shriveled. Walking through the gates was like stepping into a vibrant world of color and light. Charlie forced out a laugh, finding the whole thing ironic.

The maid opened the door, a gentle but joyous smile on her face when she saw Charlie. She guided her upstairs, not bothering to ask any questions about her trip or engage in conversation. She sweetly showed her to a room—its size almost the equivalent of the home she shared with Miles and Nora.

There was a tub by a curtain-dressed window, the vapor came off the water in waves, infusing the air with smells of lavender and sage. "I took the liberty of preparing you a bath as soon as I got word of your arrival."

Charlie tilted her head in amusement, "You mean you knew I was here before I knocked on the door?"

The woman smiled. "General Monroe's orders."

Charlie nodded, "Of course." Her eyes scanned the rest of the room, a familiar thump made her chest tremble when she noticed the vase full of roses atop the dresser.

"Also per his request." The maid said, winking at Charlie. "Alright, Miss. Why don't you go ahead and bathe while I go fetch your dress?"

Charlie's mouth opened but she failed to produce a sound. She nodded once and with that, the little, old lady went on her way.

* * *

The calming and delicious scent of the warm water put Charlie at ease. Her body felt light as a feather as she submerged herself in the depths of the tub. She leaned back, allowing her head to dip below the surface. As she came back up for air and wiped her eyes with her hands, she heard the sound of the door again.

She reached for the folded wash cloth sitting atop the rim of the bath tub and began trailing it over her legs, thanking God she'd come across a razor the day before.

"You're as beautiful as a Greek siren." His voice was smooth like sweet, warm honey.

Charlie jumped, bringing her knees up to her chest as she instinctively shielded her breasts.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

"I wasn't expecting you." Charlie muttered, her hands relaxing over her knees.

His gaze made her body heat rise, the feel of her legs against her breasts suddenly became pleasurable. She could feel her nipples pressing against soft skin, her center pulsing in an aching manner as a result.

Bass licked his lips and then looked away.

"I wanted to deliver the dress myself." He said, focusing his attention on nothing in particular. "I'm sure it will be of your liking." His feet twirled in the opposite direction, averting his eyes from her.

He'd only taken a few steps when Charlie called out to him.

"Bass." She paused, "Why does it make you so uncomfortable?"

Charlie smiled as she heard him clear his throat. "Excuse me?" Against his better judgement, he turned to look at her again.

Her knees peered from underneath the water but her legs no longer pushed against her naked chest. Bass could clearly see her form, the long milky legs that led to places he longed to explore, her cute, perfect belly button, her plump breasts and hard nipples half submerged in water. They broke the surface as she beckoned him to come back.

There was a smile on his face. Charlie could've sworn he was flustered.

"Charlie–"

With a tilt of the head she coaxed him further.

His expression shifted. The look of desire in his eyes caused the ache between her legs to grow. Bass's expression was stern, hunger and thirst evident in his eyes as he approached her.

"You're not intimidated by me, are you?" She asked teasingly, her hand taking a hold of his as he stood close to her.

He smiled again, feeling a slight tug on his fingers. Bass crouched down, until he was at eye level with her. His eyes traced over her body. He replied, "Of course not."

Charlie bit down on her lip, the craving pent up inside her was making her want to say things she knew would mortify her later. "Then why are you so afraid to touch me?" A shiver ran through her body.

She was usually only this courageous after a few drinks.

Bass gulped, watching as she placed his hand between her breasts. A little exhale left her lips as she arched her back ever so slightly. "Don't you want to?" The sound of her voice made his cock stiffen in his pants.

He wanted nothing more.

"I don't want you to regret anything." He muttered, allowing his hand to slowly slide over her right breast. The firmness of her nipple grazed his fingertips.

Charlie's eyes looked sleepy, like the bedroom eyes of a temptress luring him into sin. He began plucking her nipple teasingly.

"I won't." Charlie moaned. Her whole body reveling in pleasure.

His fingers continued their exploration, her body relishing in his touch. He was breathing a little heavy as he watched her expressions in response to his stroking. Bass muttered in her ear, asking if she liked what he was doing to her, even though her sounds were confirmation enough.

"Do me a favor," she whimpered, "If you're not going to fuck me, please do something to relieve my frustration. It's the least you can do." She said between breaths.

Bass chuckled, his cock throbbing against the tightness of his pants. His fingers glided over her stomach and over the swollen tissue of her sex. He placed a heated kiss on her lips, and slowly pushed an index inside her opening before adding a second. The water splashed furiously as he penetrated her repeatedly, his thumb satiating her clit.

His lips moved over her mouth and down to her breasts. Tongues darted as his fingers stroked her folds. Charlie responded with sounds of fulfillment.

Her hands clasped to the curls of his hair, "Don't stop." She begged.

Pump after pump, her body kept basking in endless pleasure, until his fingers became encased in heated release. Charlie's face was flushed as she reached her peak. Her whole body felt like a warm blanket, glowing in satisfaction and expelling labored breathes.

She stared at Bass and he looked back at her in silence. His eyes burning with need.

Just as he was beginning to think she was starting to regret it, Charlie's mouth split into a huge smile, and then she let out a small satisfied laugh.

* * *

Charlie felt like a character from one of those storybooks she'd once heard about. The gorgeous gown complemented the color of her sun kissed skin, flowing with her movements like pages of a book against the breeze. She'd never been the kind of girl to care about lady-like manners or dressing the part, on the contrary, it bored her to death. But seeing Bass at the bottom of the stairs like a prince waiting in the wings gave her the butterfly feelings of a teenager in full bloom. Charlie could hardly contain her emotions.

She beamed.

Bass watched her in awe, admiring her flawless features which were usually partly overshadowed by her long tresses. This time, the dirty blonde locks were nicely held up in a delicate knot, allowing only a few loose strands to move freely. Bass took back his earlier assessment. She didn't look like a Greek siren, she was one.

He didn't have any other choice but to look at her with an idiotic smile on his face. She was the stuff dreams were made of, and she was all his. The thought made his chest tighten. At least for now.

"I don't know if you're just a really good guesser or a very creepy stalker, but this gown fits me perfectly." She said with a smile, reaching the end of the staircase.

Bass laughed. "I guess I'm just that good."

"Or just lucky." She replied.

"I can assure you, it was made especially for you, Charlotte."

Charlie didn't know if she believed that. But it was better than thinking the gown had belonged to one of his previous conquests.

He extended his hand to her, like a gentleman does to a lady of high class. It was all too surreal for Charlie, who was used to guys hitting on her at the bar, or whistling at her in the streets. She placed her hand over his, as poised and elegantly as possible, and he guided her out the door.

The evening so far was off to a magical start.

She just hoped that unlike the storybooks, the spell wouldn't be broken at midnight.

* * *

The Symphony Center—or what was left of it—had held various gatherings since the end of the Patriot War. It was the epicenter in Dallas for the leaders of each of the regions to come together and speak business, which most of the time just meant a fifteen-minute meeting followed by a night of drinking and partying that usually went until the early hours of the morning.

Charlie had heard her fair share of stories. Men of that caliber were no strangers to the depravity of which Miles had once accused Bass of participating in. However, that evening's meeting seemed especially important to Bass. Charlie could tell by the way he constantly checked his appearance, wiggling his bow tie around and smoothing out his dress pants every chance he got.  
"Is the great General Monroe nervous?" She teased, as the carriage vibrated its way to the front of the hall.

"President Affleck will be there. Nervous is a bit of an understatement."

Charlie was starting to feel the jitters as well. "Should I be worried?"

He shook his head and smiled. "It's not like that, Charlie. Whatever is discussed in the meeting has everything to do with me and not necessarily with the well-being of you or your family. A deal with him would mean a loss for Neville, whose become determined to take over the region that now constitutes the Republic."

Her eyebrows shot up, "That sounds to me like it has everything to do with the well-being of my family. I don't know if you remember but we live on territory bordering the Republic. As a matter of fact, I'm surprised that chunk of land hasn't been disputed as heatedly as others."

Bass put a hand on her lap, rubbing it gently. "That's because cabbage fields and apple orchards aren't exactly a commodity." He joked.

"Ass." She muttered, pushing him away.

They both laughed.

Still, Charlie couldn't help being worried for him. The possibility of losing the Republic to Neville was not something to be taken lightly.

* * *

The evening hours passed, between the clashing of fine wine glasses and the tune of a live orchestra, Charlie found herself immersed in a life she had only ever dreamed of before. This was the life of the elite, a world that was foreign, frightening and thrilling all at once. Charlie had thought Bass's parties were extravagant but this was on another level.

She wanted to belong and at the same time, she wanted nothing to do with it. Seeing how some of the guests laughed, cheered, and shamelessly paraded themselves, while the real world was plagued with poverty, hunger and death made her skin crawl. No. She wanted to be different. Charlie didn't want to be sucked into such a pitiful life.

Bass pulled her in close, their feet moving in perfect sync to the melodies permeating the air. He stared at her like one looks at a precious jewel, his hand caressing her side, drawing her body into him.

Charlie really liked him, she'd even go as far as saying she felt more for him than simple attraction. But she was afraid of calling it anything more. She couldn't quite figure out how she could want someone so much, even after knowing the wrongdoings of which he was accused. The obvious response to someone who takes lives is disgust, then why didn't she feel that towards him? She thought.

He could read the uncertainty in her eyes. Whatever was going through her mind wasn't letting her enjoy the evening in its entirety.

"You're somewhere else tonight." He noted as he twirled her around.

Charlie bit her lip. "Was it Neville's men? The fifteen you killed?"

He turned away, taking a beat. "Are you repulsed by my actions? By me?"

No, she thought. And that's what bothered her the most.

She shook her head. "I just want to know if what they say about you is true."

"They? Whose they? People in town? Miles and Nora?" He asked. "Look, Charlie. When you're in a position like mine, you have to make decisions that aren't always morally correct. We've already been over this."

They were the only couple standing still in the dance floor.

"If Miles told you I killed people, if he told you that I've shed blood to get to where I am now, he's right. But none of those deaths were for nothing. I was attacked, in my own turf. I had to do something about it."

He took her face between his hands. "You don't have to be afraid of me."

A ghost of a smile formed on her lips. "I'm not."

They were interrupted by Baker, the Major's eyes taking in Charlie's beauty for an instant before delivering his message. "He's here."

Bass gave Charlie a lingering kiss on the lips, taking her by surprise. "Duty calls. I'll be back as soon as it's over."

* * *

Minutes later and there was still no sign of Bass anywhere in the hall. Charlie hoped that whatever arrangement he had going on with President Affleck would finally come to fruition. She walked the tables lined with food, picked up a glass of red wine and then walked along the entrance corridor, admiring the architecture.

Her gaze fell upon a familiar face. The petite blonde looked in her direction, her mouth opening in surprise and excitement when she saw Charlie. They both walked towards each other like two stray magnets finding their polar opposite. While they were very different, there was something about her that Charlie found relatable.

"Hi, Isabelle. It's Charlie." She said, trying to save the girl the embarrassment of having to ask her name again.

"You look gorgeous!" She exclaimed. She'd already been drinking.

Charlie was flattered. "Thank you, so do you."

Isabelle drank her wine, all the while criticizing people left and right. It was amusing. Charlie couldn't recall the last time she'd heard so much gossip from a single person. Once Isabelle started talking, it was hard to get her to stop. She was like an endless fountain of dirty—and often useless—information. The non-electrical world's very own gossip column in the flesh.

"So, you're here with Sebastian Monroe?" How she had managed to make such a simple question sound so sexual was beyond her.

Charlie laughed. "The one and only." She sipped. "I guess the thing I heard about business meetings only lasting a few minutes is bullshit?"

The girl finished her drink and then picked up another glass from the nearby table. "They're usually short and sweet. I can't imagine this one lasting much longer." She eyed Charlie as if teasing her, "You eager to get out of here with your date?"

"Very funny."

She grinned. "I'm just saying. If I had that sexy hunk to myself, I'd want to get him alone too."

Charlie said no more, opting to drink from her glass instead.

Isabelle noticed some of the men walking back to the hall from the back room, Neville being the first one Charlie recognized.

"Looks like meeting is adjourned," the spunky blonde noted.

"Why does Neville always look like he's out for blood? Those snake eyes of his are terrifying, don't you think?"

Isabelle agreed. "He's definitely one to watch, especially now that my father is close to reaching an agreement with your boyfriend. I can't imagine that will sit well with him."

Charlie almost choked on her wine and it wasn't because Isabelle had called Bass her boyfriend. "You're President Affleck's daughter?" She kind of felt ashamed for not knowing sooner. No wonder the girl looked familiar to her the first time they'd met.

"Yeah." She admitted. "I figured you didn't know and I kind of regret telling you because you're the only person who hasn't tried to kiss my ass just to get on my dad's good side. Everyone's always out for themselves"

Charlie felt sympathy for the girl. "I had no idea. I'm sorry."

"I know what you're thinking, poor little rich girl." She chuckled, "But don't feel bad, just try not to treat me any differently." Isabelle knew that was nearly impossible now, but she figured there was no harm in asking.

A nod from Charlie seemed to reassure her. "I'll try my best."

They both smiled and looked over at the men walking back to the hall. They could see Bass and President Affleck still engaged in conversation. Neville was busy with his own discussion, all the while keeping close tabs on the two men. Charlie could tell that whatever he was telling his companion was anything but courteous.

"He's cute, huh?" Isabelle remarked, referring to the militant to whom Neville was speaking.

"Neville Junior?" Charlie asked, unsure if she'd gotten it right.

"Yeah. Now, if there's someone you want to feel sorry for, it's that guy. Ever since he lost his mom, he's been bent on nothing but revenge. It's sad, really." She sighed. "That amongst other politics is what led them to split from the Republic and form their own army. Now they're picking fights all over the place, especially with Monroe. Don't you just love living in this fucked up world?" Her cynicism was spot on.

When they both looked back the Nevilles had already lost themselves in the crowd.

A few moments later, Charlie caught sight of Jason. His gaze was transfixed on her. He smiled at her coyly, and then he started walking in her direction.

"Hi." He said, his smile wide and cheeky.

Isabelle raised her eyebrows and excused herself. "Good luck." She muttered between gritted teeth.

Charlie smiled back at the stranger, "Hi." She looked around the room, searching for Bass. Out of all people at the party, the last person she wanted to be talking to was a Neville.

"Why do you look so nervous? I don't bite." What a lame attempt at flirting, Charlie thought.

She pursed her lips, unimpressed.

"Look if you don't want to talk to me, just say it." He crossed his arms over his chest as if offended by her lack of amiability. "You won't hurt my feelings."

From the corner of her eye she spotted Bass. His pace quickened when he noticed Charlie talking to Neville's boy.

"I'm actually here with someone." She said, cocking her head towards Bass.

Jason chuckled when he saw him. "You're here with Monroe? Of course you are." He leaned into her, whispering in her ear. "Look, I know your uncle. He would not approve of this."

Charlie pulled away, a bewildered expression on her face. Bass came to her side, wrapping her fingers around her arm. "Time to go, Charlie."

They began walking away.

"Leaving the party so soon?" Jason mocked. "Why? Afraid I might say something that will bring your little charade crashing down?" He laughed just like his father. "You're the closest he'll ever get to your uncle. That's why he's playing you. He's a twisted fuck."

The boy was clearly inebriated but that didn't lessen the impact of his words.

* * *

They didn't talk the whole way back to the estate. Charlie was angry but she didn't know towards whom her angry should've been directed. Did she have Miles to blame for Bass's silence? Was Jason just being an A-class asshole, sputtering bullshit? Was Bass really just using her to get to Miles?

As soon as the carriage came to a stop in front of the entrance to the house, she ran out, pulling at her hair and undoing the knotted bun. If she could have ripped off her dress without ending up naked, she would've done that as well. Perhaps her fears had been right all along. Her fairytale fantasy was shattering into a million pieces.

The carriage drove off, the two of them left alone in the poorly lit darkness of the night.

"Charlie, calm down." Bass seemed fine. Nothing about the situation seemed to have bothered him. "He's a stupid boy who will say anything to destroy what I have. He knows nothing."

"I don't know if I want to do this anymore." She said, "All I've been getting from you are half stories and partial version of the truth. You never tell me what I want to know."

"So, you're going to believe a drunk over me?" That was the trigger he needed. His calm appearance began taking a more irritated form.

A few steps in her direction and Charlie found herself between him and the door. "You don't know what you're saying, Charlotte. What you need to do is go home and sleep on it. We'll talk about it when I see you next week."

She sneered, "There we go again. It's like an endless carousel with you." Her eyes were glued to his as she tilted her head back, "I've done everything you've asked. Followed your instructions to the T. Why can't you just tell me the truth? What more do you want from me?"

"I want you to believe me when I say I'm being honest." He replied, his voice rough and demanding. "I want you to trust me when I say you need to be eased into it."

Her back pressed against the door and her heart pounded in her chest. Charlie was speechless. She had no words to express everything she was feeling. His breathe blew warmly over her lips, infiltrating her senses like toxic gas. She wanted nothing and everything from him all at once.

"Don't give up on me now." Bass pleaded.

Charlie's whole being felt ignited, burning for him like embers in a fire. She didn't know how or why she believed in him so blindly. It was like a natural instinct she had no control over.

Her voice was small, "Please, don't let me down."

"I wouldn't dream of it." He replied.

The touch of his lips eased her mind. His tongue wrapped around hers, claiming what he considered his and reminding her that she also had claim on him. Quickened breaths followed by gliding hands, an expression of their undying need for each other. Charlie's senses were going wild as his hand slipped underneath the skirt of her dress. She gasped for air and then hungrily bit into his lips, feeling the warmth of his fingers as they traced her thigh and reached the hollow they'd invaded earlier that day.

Charlie let herself succumb to her feelings.

Bass felt like home to her.

* * *

If you have a chance, please review. Once again, thank you so much for reading and sticking around to find out where the hell this story is going! Don't worry, I already know... and soon, you will too! xoxo


	8. The Last Piece of the Puzzle

**Update for you guys! Thank goodness for a 3-day weekend! Hope you enjoy this chapter :)**

* * *

**Chapter 8: The Last Piece of the Puzzle**

* * *

Charlie was practically skipping on her way back to the house, whistling a tune that had been playing at the party days prior. She smiled like an ingenue in love every time she remembered Bass. It was like living in a perpetual state of bliss that she wished would never end. The mere thought of him made her body react in unexpected and pleasurable ways and made her heart swell with joy. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been so happy. Jumping over a stream that ran through the meadow just a few yards from her home, she noticed Miles sitting in the front porch with a bottle of rye whiskey in his hands. An impending gloom came over her. Something didn't feel right. It was the middle of the week and although already after noon, still too early for Miles to be drinking.

She paced over slowly the rest of the way, eyeing her uncle carefully before she reached him. "Miles. Is everything okay?" Her voice was meek, like that of a child afraid of a negative response.

Miles looked up at her, a broken expression on his face but a furious flare in his eyes. Charlie felt a sickening tug in her belly. He narrowed his eyes at her, nothing but silence between them for a few moments. It was making her more and more uncomfortable with every passing second.

"Why don't you tell me, Charlie?" He asked with an accusing tone.

Charlie didn't reply. Her eyes quickly flickering over to Nora as she came out the front door to see what was the matter. When she saw Charlie, she lowered her gaze.

"Miles..." Charlie muttered.

He came to his feet, his form taking a massive and lofty appearance. With one swing of the arm, he chucked the bottle to the ground. It shattered, its contents spilling and seeping into the dry dirt.

"Did you think we wouldn't find out?" Charlie had never heard so much anger in his voice. "What the fuck were you thinking getting involved with him?"

Charlie felt faint, everything around her taking a blurry appearance as his words sunk in. Miles knew. The fear that crawled inside her had little to do with his reaction and everything to do with the possibility of never seeing Bass again.

"How–"

"How do we know?" Miles finished the question for her. "Your friend Greyson came over this morning." Charlie felt her insides burn with betrayal. "He told us everything. Your trips to the Republic. That fancy dinner you attended this past weekend."

"I can explain." She began. But could she? Charlie wasn't sure she even knew what had drawn her to Bass Monroe in the first place. How was she to explain her actions to Miles and Nora? She bit her tongue, unaware that she was hurting herself until she tasted her own blood.

"I don't know how I was so stupid to believe he wouldn't try to lure you in like a stray cat." He snarled. "I'm not gonna let him ruin you too, Charlie."

Charlie knew he had every right to be angry. She'd lied straight to his face and formed a potentially dangerous liaison with the man he most hated. But the thought of Miles trying to control her life only ignited her need to break from her sheltered life. Charlie had never felt more free than when she was with Bass. In a strange turn of events, her sense of true self and independence only shined when she was with him. She hated the way Miles always tried to shield her from the real world and made Bass out to be the oppressor.

"You being my uncle doesn't give you a right to decide what I do with my life." She yelled back, making even Nora flinch by the way she delivered the line.

"Charlie he's just trying to protect you." Nora replied.

The girl responded with mockery, "Really? Protect me how? By lying to me about what really happened between him and Bass?"

"Bass." Miles mumbled, laughing at the way Charlie said his name so effortlessly. "I don't know what Bass told you but if you think he's being completely honest with you, you're an even bigger idiot than I thought."

"Don't try to pretend like you've been a fountain of truth, Miles." She spat back.

Miles laughed, running his hand through his hair in a desperation. "I really doubt he's been any more helpful. And I swear to you Charlie, if you don't stay away from that man, I will be forced to take drastic measures."

"What are you gonna do? Ground me for a week until I get over it?"

He shook his head, "No. But I will find a way to get us across the Gulf and away from here."

Charlie felt like she'd been sucker punched in the entrails. "You wouldn't–"

"Don't test me." He replied.

Images of her times with Bass flashed before her eyes, the things he'd revealed about Miles playing on repeat like a broken record. Everything in her line of sight took on a different shape, her mind trying to unscramble every detail like a puzzle in disarray.

"Bass has been more honest with me than you've ever been." She began, "You, the integral Miles Matheson, leader of the Republic. How many men did you kill during your time at the head of the most nefarious organization of our time, Uncle Miles?" She sneered. "Or are you going to deny that you helped him in his efforts to start a regime?"

Miles was speechless.

"Oh, did I hit the nail in the head with that one?" Charlie continued. She watched as Miles's expression changed to that of imminent defeat. "You and him were like brothers. What changed?"

"You want to know what changed? You want me to tell you who he really is?" Miles looked like he was about to deliver the lowest of blows.

"Miles don't..." Nora said, stepping in front of him with pleading eyes. "You can't do that to her. Not like this."

Charlie stepped up on the porch, her feet inching closer to them as she demanded answers. "Tell me, Miles! For once in your life, tell me the fucking truth!"

Nora turned to her, "This conversation is over." She rose above the quiet and meek appearance she usually took on. The Nora standing before her now was one to fear. "Do you understand me, Charlie? Not one more word of this. Give your uncle some time to clear his head."

Charlie gritted her teeth but agreed to Nora's request.

* * *

With her gaze to the blue skies and the breeze blowing through the open window of her bedroom, Charlie recounted all the ways in which her life had changed since that fateful day of her encounter with Sebastian Monroe. Before him, her existence had been nothing but a specter of what she really wanted out of life. He'd shown her there was more to her journey than met the eye.

There was a light knock on the door.

Charlie turned to see Nora's head popping in through the narrow crack, "Can we talk?"

She rolled her eyes, "If you're here to try to convince me that Bass is the devil incarnate and that I should stay away from him, save your breath."

Nora walked inside and closed the door behind her. "I know what you're feeling." She said quietly, "It's the same way I feel whenever I think of Miles."

Charlie looked at her, surprised that Nora was able to see through her so well. "How do you know that?"

"Because I'm a woman and I know exactly how a woman reacts when she feels like something is threatening to destroy what makes her happy." She took a seat next to Charlie on the bed, making her move slightly on the mattress. "I saw it in your eyes. And I'm pretty sure Miles saw it too."

There was no point in trying to deny it. The fact that Nora had been the one to bring it up was a relief all on its own. "I love him." Charlie admitted, her heart pounding in her chest and producing an all too familiar ache.

Nora's lips pressed together, relenting a tiny but comforting smile. "I know."

"But you also know the truth and that's why you agree with Miles."

The brunette took a deep breath, her exhale heavy and full of thought. "It's not so simple, Charlie. It's not a truth that belongs to me, I'm not the right person to tell it." Her words were sweet, mothering in a way that Charlie appreciated. "And as much as I love Miles, I don't necessarily agree with the way in which he's handled the situation."

"Then tell me." Charlie pleaded. "I need to know if Bass is deserving of what I feel for him."

Nora could relate to Charlie's uncertainty. Many times she too had felt like Miles wasn't deserving of her whole heart. "I think you already know who's the only person who can tell you the truth."

Charlie's eyes widened, "But Miles is downstairs, there's no way he'll let me go."

Nora pressed her lips into a straight line. "He told me we're leaving tomorrow, Charlie. Which means, if you don't do this tonight, you might not have another chance."

The fear those words instilled in her was unbearable. Charlie knew what she had to do.

* * *

Crossing the border into Austin felt like reaching the promised land. Between the opening of the gate, the run up the trail that led to the estate and the flickering of the lights in the corridor, Charlie's body felt like it was being guided by an unseen force. The sudden dimming and brightening of the lights gave the archways and halls an aura that seemed otherworldly. By the time Charlie reached the front door, she felt like she'd lost track of time, trapped in a endless wormhole of what-ifs and what-might-have-beens.

She rang the doorbell over and over, knowing that the fluctuating power might not put some of those rings through. It was late, close to the midnight hour, without a soul in sight.

The door opened slowly and quietly. From behind, the old maid peered at her, dressed in a night gown that looked like it belonged in another century. "Miss Charlotte." She said with a warm smile.

"I need to see him." Charlie replied.

The old lady nodded, inviting her inside.

Charlie didn't know what had come over her but the closer she got to seeing Bass the more frightened she felt of losing him. Her emotions were all over the place, splattered like pigments on an abstract painting.

She was waiting in the same room where she had bathed the day of the dinner party. Her eyes were glued to the stars sprinkled all over the black sky, a trickle of tears running down her cheeks as her emotions got the better of her. The maid had returned in one occasion to bring her a bathrobe and a nightgown, asking if a warm bath would help put her at ease.

Charlie was standing in front of the bathtub watching the still waters when Bass came into the room.

"Charlotte." He said, with a smile on his face. He noticed her saddened state and hurried to her side. "What's wrong?"

She hugged him, holding him tightly and breathing in his scent. Charlie could tell he'd just returned home, still dressed in his uniform and smelling of grime and gunpowder. "I just need you to hold me." She said quietly.

His embrace was like a soothing remedy. "Of course."

After a few minutes, she raised her chin up to him, staring into his striking blue eyes. "Miles knows about us."

Bass looked shocked. "What did he say?"

"Not much. He was really angry and then he threatened to take me away from you."

Bass tightened his hold on her, "I won't let that happen, Charlie." He kissed the top of her head, "He'll have to go through me first."

Charlie smiled and then pushed herself up on her toes to reach his lips. His kiss felt more liberating than ever. The warmth of his moist lips enveloping her like a protective armor.

"Why don't you get ready for bed and get some rest. We'll talk in the morning."

She nodded, not knowing if prolonging the discussion was actually preventing an inevitable heartbreak.

Bass couldn't keep himself from going in for another kiss. His lips brushed against the tender skin of her cheek before enclosing her mouth. He held her by the waist, his body tensing at the feel of her tongue swirling inside his mouth. The innocence of the act getting lost in the fiery depths of their desire. He pulled at her lower lip with his teeth, smiling against her mouth as her hands traveled across his back.

He pulled away slowly, knowing that it was leading them into dangerously racy waters. "Goodnight, Charlie." His breathe lingered on her lips.

She sighed with an air of disenchantment, "Goodnight, Bass."

* * *

Charlie wrapped herself in the bathrobe, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her soaked hair stuck to her neck, droplets of water running down her chest before getting absorbed by the silky fabric of the robe. Tomorrow would be another day but she couldn't help feeling like her time with Bass was running out. She wasn't prepared to live with the regret of letting him slip through her fingers, of having him so close and then having him ripped away. That night could have possibly been the last she had left with him? Charlie wasn't prepared to live in a world of what-ifs and shadows of what could have been between them. For all she knew, she wouldn't have tomorrow.

She smiled at the girl staring back at her in the mirror. Her eyes lit up with hope, her body trembled nervously, and her cheeks blushed at the thought of taking the initiative.

A few minutes later, she found herself standing in front of his bedroom door. The hallway was dimly lit by a flickering candle inside a tall glass holder. She breathed deeply and evenly before raising her fist up to knock but her hand retreated before it even got a chance to touch the wood. She shut her eyes tightly and reached for the doorknob, turning it slowly as it opened in front of her.

Charlie's eyes scanned the room, falling over Bass who was sipping a glass of whiskey by the window. He had his back turned to her, his eyes contemplating the quietude of the night. The only other sound was the crackling fire that flared behind the glass of the fireplace next to him.

She bit her lip and then shut the door.

Bass snapped his head in her direction, in awe of her sudden appearance. "Charlie. Is everything alright?" It seemed his first instinct was always to ask about her current state of well-being.

Charlie smiled, "Everything's fine."

He set his drink down on top of the fireplace. He was barefoot, still wearing his pants and a white undershirt. From the looks of it, he'd done little to ready himself for bed. Charlie approached him, like a hauntingly, irresistible beauty floating towards him and evoking feelings of arousal.

She didn't say a word as her hand ran over his hard chest. Her head tilted back and her lips touched the skin of his throat, moving gently and nipping at it lightly. Charlie could feel his pulse intensifying as a low guttural moan left his lips.

Bass could feel himself growing hard, his cock responding to her mere presence. Her wet hair dampened his shirt as her mouth left faint bruising on his neck. With one foot behind the other, she pulled him in the direction of the bed. Hands ran freely over his back, pulling at his shirt in an upward motion until she managed to peel it off his body. Charlie kissed his chest, tracing the muscles of his stomach with her fingertips before returning her lips to his.

He darted his tongue into her mouth, his hands clasping to her face. Charlie's heart was pounding, her center pulsing at the feel of his hardness pressed against her leg. She stopped for a moment, turning his body and shoving him onto the bed. He laughed, positively turned on by her hunger and determination.

Charlie untied the bathrobe, letting it fall to her feet. Bass's eyes trailed over her, taking in every inch of skin and quietly gasping at the perfection that stood before him. He felt unable to resist, her imposing form only making him want her that much more. She had an alluring quality with an air of sweetness that he found almost impossible to withstand. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he pressed his lips between her breasts, his hands caressing her ass, fingers kneading plump flesh like malleable clay.

"I need you Bass." She said, teasing him with her breasts. His lips parted, suckling her nipple and glancing up to see her gratified expression. "I need you inside me." The words fell out of her mouth as it dropped open, exhaling a drawn out moan.

One of his hands slid between her legs, drawn by the heat and dampness of her sex. His fingertips touched the slickness of her opening, and his cock throbbed with need at the feel of her wet slit. Bass looked up at her, knowing that one step further and he'd be in too deep. As much as it physically pained him to restrain himself, he groaned. "I want you to know the truth first." He said, coming to his feet.

Charlie shook her head.

"Charlotte, please–"

She put a finger up to his lips, quieting him down as she took a hold of one of his hands and interlocked their fingers. "Not now, Bass."

Bass cleared his throat but of all the thoughts that circled in his mind, none managed to materialized into spoken words. He placed his free hand on the tantalizing bend of her hips, her soft skin feeling like velvet underneath his palm.

Charlie kissed him once. Twice. Three times before speaking. "There are so many things I'm unsure of Bass." She paused, "But this." Taking his hand and guiding it down to the mound between her legs, she continued. "This is the only thing I'm sure of right now." Her lip trembled. Heart accelerating with each rushing thought before she let it do the talking. "I love you, Bass."

The admission was the sweetest of symphonies to Bass's ears. He seemed stunned at first but then he smiled, holding her face with the gentlest of touches and lightly stroking her cheek with his thumb.

"It's okay if you don't feel the same." She said, with a waning smile.

Bass looked at her intently, his ardent blue eyes consuming every ounce of reason in her. "I love you too, Charlie." He said whole-heartedly.

He waited for her to smile again before crashing his lips into hers. Hands moved keenly over naked skin, outlining slender valleys and wide bends. Their breaths quickened and hitched with each eager exploration. When Charlie reached the barrier of clothing between her fingers and his body, she yanked at it with greed, ridding Bass of everything and leaving him bare to her touch. Her hips moved against him, his stiffened cock crushed against her flat belly, leaving remnants of his undying need for her on her skin.

The flames in the fireplace danced in tune with their movements, their drawn out shadows playfully adorning the bedroom walls. Charlie moaned as he settled her back atop the bedsheets fluffed over the mattress. His hand wrapped around her calf, gliding up and down like he was worshipping a mystical artifact.

Charlie bit her lip, her center pulsing with excitement as she watched him stroke himself. The tip of his cock barely brushed her slit but already she felt like she was melting into an abyss of endless pleasure. She begged him for more, her glistening center eager to welcome him.

"You're everything I'll ever want and everything I'll ever need." He said to her as he began to invade her depths.

Charlie whimpered and her body shuddered at the feel of his cock sliding into her, inch by inch. Bass gasped, the sensation of her walls expanding and clenching around his girth proving to be exhilarating. Every cell in their bodies vibrated with electrifying delight. Bass moved inside her, increasing his speed at her command. His hands were restless, fervently touching her body like a blind man trying to memorize every last detail.

Being with him was everything Charlie imagined it would be and more. Her body shaking in complete bliss whenever he found that magical spot that brought her over the edge. The minutes passed, enveloped in cries of pleasure and labored breaths. Charlie was sitting on the edge of the bed, her legs spread and eyes half-closed as Bass continued to pound into her. His length was sleek from the remains of her countless orgasms as it slid in and out of her at a rapid pace.

The look on his face told Charlie he was almost at his peak. He reached for her breast, pulling at the swollen nipple and then gripping the mound in its entirety with his large hand. In an instant he pulled out, vigorously running his free hand over his shaft and squirting warm release over her taut abdomen before collapsing next to her on the bed. He kissed her, breathing heavily as his heart pounded incessantly in his chest. The sensation made Charlie shiver in satisfaction.

A few minutes later, she turned to find him, noticing his eyes were closed. His breathing was calm, a serene expression reflected on his face. She smiled, turning on her side and kissing his forehead.

Bass opened his eyes, smiling back at her.

"That was incredible." She said.

His hand touched her flushed cheek, "No. You're incredible." Charlie grinned, her fingers raking his messy curls. "And now I'm a little hungry. You?" He asked.

Her heart pounded in unpredictable ways whenever she looked at his face. He was an impossibly beautiful man and the way he smiled obliterated all her senses.

Bass pushed himself up on the bed, the muscles of his stomach tightening in response to his effort. He'd been blessed with the most irresistible of features, the one between his legs being particularly jaw-dropping and splendid. Charlie couldn't help stealing a few glances, even soft, his dick was an awe-inspiring sight.

The joy of watching his nakedness only lasted a few seconds before he pulled up his pants. He placed a kiss on her lips and then excused himself downstairs.

Charlie was blissful, a carefree sensation coursing through her veins as she wrapped herself in a bed sheet and waltzed around the room like a character from an animated film. Her cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling so much. She paced over to the window, staring at the blackness outside, the ghostly silhouettes of trees barely visible to the eye. Moments later, she moved on to examine the art hanging on the walls. It was the first time she'd ever paid attention to them. There were black and white photographs of landscapes and an antique-looking abstract painting. She stared at it for a few minutes trying to decipher its meaning before giving up.

After looking at some of the trinkets atop the fireplace, her eyes caught sight of an old leather vault sitting underneath a side table. Charlie pursed her lips, staring at it with curiosity and debating on whether it was okay to take a peek. She told herself that she'd open it if after a few minutes Bass still hadn't returned. Her attempts to occupy herself with other things failed, and soon enough her curiosity got the better of her.

She popped the vault open. Inside, there were old envelopes with letters and documents stamped with the Monroe seal. Charlie dug a little deeper, finding old and tarnished photographs. One depicted a toddler, ivory skin and radiant blue eyes, a mesh of blond curly hair atop his head. She giggled, deducing she was looking at a baby Bass, and finding it absolutely endearing.

Beneath it there were more photographs. And older Bass with two other girls, most likely his sisters. Another of a teenage Bass with a young boy who strongly resembled her uncle. Charlie's expression shifted. The reality of why she had returned to Bass suddenly hitting her like a stray bullet. She threw the photographs back in the vault with the intention of closing it and putting the memories to rest.

But before she could fully pull down the cover, she noticed a color photo sticking out like a sore thumb from underneath the collection of black and white prints. Charlie jumped, getting caught off guard by the sudden flicker of the lights. A shiver ran down her spine, like a precedent to a bad omen. She stuck her hand inside, grabbing the corner of the square photograph and pulled it out.

Charlie felt short of breath, a faint spell suddenly taking over her whole being. She was breathing sharply, unable to fill her lungs to full capacity. The white strip below the photo had a written inscription that read _Thanksgiving 2029_. It had been taken almost four years prior. In the picture, Miles was laughing, his hand over Bass's shoulder, both of them with dirt on their clothes and face. And Bass, he was smiling proudly like he'd just won a medal of honor. His left hand was wrapped around the waist of a woman, equally grimy and also smiling with glee. Charlie couldn't believe her eyes. The woman on the photo was her.

* * *

**Reviews are very much appreciated! Thanks! xoxo**


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